baked beans

I checked with my mother about this story. 

One time early in their marriage my mother wanted to prepare a fancy meal for my father, but the pot roast got burned in the oven. 

He told her, “Honey, I’d just as soon have baked beans.” 

He only needed one thing – which was, I think, her company.

But, she said, he really did like baked beans.

Jesus says to Martha you only need one thing. Sounds like one dish, maybe. No need for a fancy meal. Let’s just be together. 

But he goes on to say: Mary has chosen the good portion, and for that reason it will not be taken away from her.

Attending to the guest is the heart of hospitality. It is the best part of being a host.

And that is the part that Mary has chosen. She will listen to what the Lord is saying.

What is going on here? She is feasting on the Word – the host for that feast is Jesus.

We become what we are called to become as we attend to what the Lord is saying, and allow our actions to come out of that centering place, that Word.

“Organizations journey toward their image of the future” (David Cooperrider). For the church our image of the future must first and last be an image of Christ, of the fulfillment of his word in the world. 

That fulfillment is his prophetic kingdom come to be.

 

JRL+

2013 July 21
Ninth Sunday after Pentecost

“Rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”

Looking up from the New Town in Edinburgh toward the Castle atop the Royal Mile, I could hear a bagpiper in the gloaming. When I took the tour of the Castle the next day, I saw Saint Margaret’s Chapel, commemorating her returning Scotland to the strong roots of its faith in the 11^th century.

I saw something more recent too: a large building, one of the most prominent on the top of the hill – a sort of mausoleum or temple, a sacred space of some sort.

It was a war memorial, a remembrance place, dedicated to honoring those sons of Scotland who had given their lives in the First World War.

All around me, when I went inside, were books, large books, inscribed with the names of the fallen. There were men attending who explained the index.

 In those books somewhere in large letters you could find the name of one person in particular. If you stepped back you could see them all – names written in the books of honor.

We don’t know about each particular person, how they lived or how they died. They died not knowing if their cause would succeed. We do know that they served. And their names were written in the books of honor.

What we encounter repeatedly in the Bible is the image of a book in which names are written: the book of the covenant, the book of life.

In this Gospel’s telling today, it is the book of those who went forth to love and serve the Lord, by proclaiming and living the Word, so that they could say, to those they passed, receptive or inhospitable, that the Kingdom of Heaven has come near.

That is what matters – to serve. Faithfulness, yes, even in unfaithfulness to repent and return to serve.

Now how did Jesus send them out? What tasks did he set before them? He sent them to prepare the way – by bringing healing and good news to places he himself purposed to go. They were in that sense sent on in advance.

Go — go urgently — without staff or spare sandals or knapsack for provisions. Go – even into a foreign land, Samaria. Go – depending on the people who receive you.

Go – depending even more profoundly on the Word of God, on the message I send with you.

That becomes your family, that becomes your identity, and that becomes your home: the message of the Kingdom of God that you carry with you.

This utter trust in the Word of God can be demonstrated in small and simple ways – remember now Naaman the Aramean, the great general of Syria, sent by his king for healing.

This adventure began when someone listened to a small voice – the voice of a slave girl, a captive from Israel, serving Naaman’s wife. “If only he could see the prophet in Samaria,” she said, “he could be healed.”

Her mistress listened to this voice of a little one – one easily dismissed as of no power or influence, a slave after all and merely a child – but she listened and the great and mighty were changed.

For the king sent the general, and the general, with mighty expectations, went forth, ventured out of his own land, for healing from a stranger. He was outside his territory, and even his family, and soon without even the dignity of his position.

Go tell him to jump in the river Jordan, said the prophet from inside his house.

Eventually the man did – he was persuaded to take this small step that really was a great leap for a man of his kind.

It was an adventure into obscurity, a humbling – and with that journey completed he became as a little child – and came to know and worship the living God.

The story continues: “Then he returned to the man of God, he and all his company; he came and stood before him and said, ‘Now I know that there is no God in all the earth except in Israel.’” (v. 15a)

Remember now those 70 others that Jesus sent out – these are not the disciples whose names we know. Their names are written in the heavens and that is their glory.

We do not know who they were. They need not have been the mighty of the Earth. Some of them could have been as obscure as slave girls and children.

But we know they went forth and we know the message they proclaimed: “The Kingdom of Heaven has come near you.”

If we can hear it,

If we can welcome it,

If we can make it at home with us,

If we can show it, and

If we can carry it forward into our world, then we can say it too:

“The Kingdom of Heaven has come near you – today.”

May it be so. Amen.

JRL+

CProper9 2013

July 7
Seventh Sunday after Pentecost
Proper 9: 2 Kings 5:1-14. Psalm 30. Galatians 6:1-16. Luke 10:1-11, 16-20.

Father John

Father John is a Camaldolese Benedictine Oblate. A graduate of the Church Divinity School of the Pacific at the Graduate Theological Union in Berkeley, he has completed the Certificate of Graduate Studies in Pastoral Leadership through Seattle University and is a candidate for the Doctor of Ministry degree from San Francisco Theological Seminary.

For freedom Christ has set us free

  

Centuries ago and thousands of miles from here a group of men met in a small room on a humid summer afternoon and made a momentous decision: to declare independence from the legitimate government of their country. It was the 4th of July.

They said out loud what other people fought for, worked for, lived for, and died for: independence and freedom. They won their victory. The struggle continues. It continues today, under different names and in different places.

Sometimes it seems something small. Small to our eyes. Sometimes it seems far away.

Even this past week freedom has been gained and lost. Here in the States it now so often seems to be about individual freedom.

We often ‘declare our independence’ for self-centered reasons.

Or we forget how precious a gift it is, to be free.

Years ago I had a neighbor who read the local paper every day. Once as Election Day came near, I casually asked him, who would you vote for? And he reminded me of a reality, when he said in reply, I have not voted in my entire life.

Why was that? I knew why. He was South African and he was not White.

Today his sons are grown and they vote.

We have freedoms others can only imagine: freedom from want, freedom from fear, freedom of worship, freedom of speech.

The list goes on.

But the most precious freedom we have is freedom in the spirit.

For freedom we are made free. We have that freedom in Christ.

Through his work. His sacrifice. His life.

We are free – free not only from something, but also for something.

We are free – for the gospel, to build the kingdom of God, to live the message that Jesus lived.

We are made free for a purpose.

To proclaim the kingdom of God and to build it in our lives, our families, our homes, our communities, our world.

We build it – by how we act, with one another.

We show it – in the fruits of the Spirit. We show it in our actions, in our work.

In faith working through love.

Acting with patience, forbearance, gentleness, generosity, and hospitality.

Putting aside the shackles of slavery – the binding of our souls by intolerance, prejudice, gossip, slander, envy, jealousy, bad faith and worse dealing – we live into freedom.

And in freedom we begin to live into the kingdom of God.

It shows the ways we treat each other – especially behind each other’s backs. It shows in how we treat strangers – even when they do not know we are there.

It shows – in love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control – all the fruits of the spirit.

That is the good news we bear – the good news that for freedom Christ has set us free.

The good news that bears fruit – what we say and what we do that brings forward the kingdom of God.

Let us then lay aside lingering attachments to the life we have left behind – enmities, strife, jealousy, anger, quarrels, dissensions, factions, envy, – all the obvious works of the flesh – and those that are less obvious as well.

We know that badmouthing is negative prayer – we do not need to experience it again.

What we need to experience is the gift of grace – giving it, and receiving it again, in a cycle of love that we neither initiate nor conclude.

What we need to experience we also have the joy of sharing with others – that they too may know the gifts of the spirit, the fruit of the spirit, in working for the freedom Christ has given us.

For freedom Christ has set us free – not for our own freedom only but for the freedom of all.

That is what we celebrate today. That is what we are called to live into, tomorrow.

That is the work we are called to do. The work of faith – faith working through love.

Let it be so. Amen.

JRL+

2 Kings 2:1-2, 6-14. Psalm 77:1-2, 11-20. Galatians 5:1, 13-25. Luke 9:51-62.

"Badmouthing is negative prayer"--Paul Lee.

the people we are called to become

 

A centurion, commander of a hundred soldiers, is a man familiar with authority. This centurion sends a group of Jewish elders to Jesus, to vouch for him and make a request. He does not come himself, he says, out of respect. His request is socially correct – even since it comes through people who have lower social status than he in the Roman order, but in Jewish eyes are worthy to approach the Rabbi.

Master come and heal my boy, my servant.

Notice that they, like he, are making a request, not for themselves, but for some one else. Every one in this community is looking out for someone else’s welfare, not their own.

But then the second group of messengers arrives: friends of the centurion, his social equals, who bear the message for him.

I am not – I the Roman official, the benefactor of the Jewish people – I am not worthy to receive you under my roof. But only say the word: let my servant be healed.

The centurion knows authority: he has it. And he had thought, at first, he knew whom he was addressing. But then it began to dawn on him just who he was dealing with.

He recognizes an authority like no other. And he is not trying to make a deal; he has nothing to offer. All he can do is trust – and let go, leave the matter in Jesus’ hands.

It is not about giving up his own authority, but about humility, charity, obedience, servanthood, gratitude, and awe.

At first he acted within his authority, in the context of the community, for a purpose greater than himself. So far he is laudable, a good man. But then he goes farther. He puts his trust, his faith, in Jesus, without condition.

This will not be transactional – Jesus does not, cannot owe him anything, and he can give Jesus nothing worthy in return. He is asking for grace; it is an act of faith.

The faith of the centurion is built on the faithfulness of God toward humankind, faithfulness represented in Jesus. That faith is not conditional, and it is not misplaced.

Awe, reverence, obedience, humility, joy, and peace – these are the fruits of this faith.

The centurion recognized in Jesus authority like no other. It is not something you can hold onto for yourself. Jesus himself did not hold onto anything. It is not that kind of universe. He himself shows us the way: putting faith in the Father, trust absolutely, that all shall be well, in the Father’s hands.

...

The church cannot become again what it used to be, but it can become the church it is called to become. We cannot, not any one of us, be again what we once were but we can become the people we are called to become.

A church is a community in which we can experience that transformation, the becoming what we are called to be, in the company of friends, and to participate in the work of the Holy Spirit, for eventually that transformation will embrace the whole world.

Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to him from generation to generation in the Church, and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever.  Amen.    (Ephesians 3:20, 21)

Re: Thursday evening special Vestry meeting 7pm Parish Hall

To the people of Saint Alban’s Church:

Thursday evening May 30, 2013, we held a special vestry meeting at 7pm in the parish hall. This proved to be a significant occasion in the life of the church. We met with the Rev. Joan Anthony, canon to the ordinary of the Diocese of Olympia, who guided the discussion. We looked at how the vestry can make a plan to meet the basic financial obligations of the parish and to accomplish the transitions the congregation needs to make to meet the challenges of the future.

Among the necessary transitions will be a reduction in funding for personnel.

After prayer and careful consideration I have discerned that it is time for me to conclude this pastoral relationship. So I am planning to resign as rector effective August 31, 2013. My last Sunday with the congregation will be on the day of the parish picnic, August 4, 2013. Soon after that my wife and I will depart for our annual family vacation.

It has been a great blessing to enter into Christ’s ministry in Edmonds with the people of Saint Alban’s Church. The gospel has been proclaimed, the sacraments administered, and thanksgivings celebrated. We have been together for baptisms, weddings, and funerals. We have served together with joy.

From the end of August my wife and I will be working toward bringing our time in town to a close. Please pray for us as we seek new adventures. We pray for you as you seek to participate in the ongoing work of the Spirit here in Edmonds.

The vestry wants you to know that Canon Anthony and the Diocese will be working with you during this important time of transition. The Bishop will appoint a priest-in-charge in due course, to carry on the pastoral and sacramental ministries. The process will be open. Please do not hesitate to contact any vestry member with any questions or concerns.

Faithfully yours,
Father John

Glory to God whose power, working in us, can do infinitely more than we can ask or imagine: Glory to him from generation to generation in the Church, and in Christ Jesus for ever and ever.  Amen.    (Ephesians 3:20, 21)

Re: Thursday evening special Vestry meeting 7pm Parish Hall
http://stalbansedmonds.org/2013/05/re-thursday-evening-special-vestry-meeting-7pm-parish-hall/

Posted on May 31, 2013 by rector 

Ascension

While he was blessing them, he withdrew from them and was carried up into heaven.

Uncertainty, doubt, fear, and even anger: this is where he left them, wasn’t it? He had been taken from them, against their will but apparently according to his, and crucified. He was dead and buried. And then he rose again. He came back. Only this time to – leave again.

But that is not their reaction. They rejoice with him, they are exceedingly glad, and they await the fulfillment of his promise patiently blessing God. They wait.

What he gave them: teaching – all the Scriptures regarding the Messiah, from the Torah, the Prophets, and the Writings – must be fulfilled. In him? In you!

You must go forth and proclaim – you are my emissaries: and this is what you must proclaim: repent and forgive.

The imperial envoys would have a message too: triumph and hegemony, the prince of peace in this world has conquered this world, and now there is peace and quiet. And we can do business in a friendly environment like that. That is good news, gospel, as the world sees it.

Jesus sends his messengers with a different message, a different set of proclamations than any Caesar ever gave: he gives a message that will not gain you the whole world but it will give you your souls.

Repent – turn – convert; and forgive – as you are forgiven.

Then you will be free. Then you will be made whole. Then you will be entering the kingdom that even now is coming in power.

And this power is the power of the Word, of the promise.

“Let it be with me according to your Word.” Way back at the beginning of the story, the good news as Luke tells it, that is what Mary said: “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

According to your Word. Not simply will – as Father Andrew pointed out to me this Easter season – not will, as we might interpret it; but Word, as we know it. As we know him.

And how do we know him? We know him in the breaking of the bread and in the prayers, in the apostle’s teaching and fellowship, and in every act of service to the unknown stranger and the ones in need among us:

I was hungry and you gave me food,

I was thirsty and you gave me drink,

I was a stranger and you made me welcome,

I was naked and you clothed me,

I was sick and you cared for me,

I was in prison and you came to see me. (Mt 25.35-36)

I was in despair and you came and brought me hope.

Hope.

Hope. That is what they are holding onto. Not riches, fame, or glory, not a particular way of doing things, or of being together. Things are not going to be the way they were. They are going to be different and they are going to be better. Beyond belief.

They have faith beyond faith, formed in doubt. They have gone through a period of struggling as so many of us do. As we all do.

Faith grows in strength as it is transformed through the process of doubt and rebirth.

Baptism is a miniature of the process: we die to the old way, we are immersed in a period of not-knowing, not-being, and we emerge, we begin to emerge, into new life.

Transitions are like that. They begin with an ending, and then pass through a neutral zone (a muddle), before they reach a new beginning. It’s sort of like crossing the street in New Orleans. You leave the curb and cross the lanes of traffic going one way, until you reach what they call the ‘neutral ground’, the in-between place where the streetcars run, or there are trees; it’s just a gap between one way of going and another. And then you cross to the other side. But you don’t get to the other side until you leave the first curb, pass through the scary in-between of the naked neutral place, which you’d just as soon skip, and then you can make your way onto new territory.

An end, a muddle, and a beginning. Simple. Difficult.

Jesus does not leave them alone for long, on the neutral ground between his departure and the new arrival. He blesses them and withdraws from their sight not before he assures them of the promise of the Lord: wait here, wait in the city, and God will clothe you with power.

Now why would he do that? Why would Jesus reassure them, sure, but even better, why would God clothe them with power? So they’ll feel safe again, all better now?

Better than that – God gives the ‘power from on high’ for a higher purpose that self: he gives it so that they can fulfill his final commission, and the promise of God.

Remember what he gave them: teaching and a blessing.

All scriptures must be fulfilled, he taught them, regarding the Son of Man. He must suffer, die, and rise again on the third day. And then – something must happen: PROCLAIM THE GOOD NEWS. That’s your job!

That is Jesus’ final commission to his disciples. All the nations must hear the word: Repent and forgive. Turn and be forgiven. And be released yourself – to live.

Live into the new age now beginning: when God reigns.

We remember his death and proclaim his resurrection, and we prepare the way for his coming in glory.

Maranatha. Come, Lord Jesus. Come; be known to us in the breaking of the bread. Be known to us in the breath of your Spirit upon us. Be known to us in one another in love and be known to us in service to the stranger. Amen.

Ascension, Acts 1:1-11, Psalm 47, Psalm 93, Ephesians 1:15-23, Luke 24:44-53, Ac 1.1-11, Ps 47, Ps 93, Eph 1.15-23, Lk 24.44-53, Joel 2.28-32, Joel 2:28-32, loss and gain, hope, Mt 25.35-36, Matthew 25:35-36, Elysian Fields, neutral ground, transitions, JRL+