White Privilege

We have been working on this big project at St. Andrew's, to generate your next generation of leadership. Last week we churned out some newsprint about that. I intended this week to bring those of you who missed it up to speed and continue.

But then. Wednesday. Nine people died at Emmanuel African American Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina. They included a high school track coach, a state senator, a librarian, a barber who had just graduated from college, a clergy spouse, the janitor, a counselor, a pastor, an 87-year-old member of the Eastern Star, whose nephew dived in front of her and asked the young man with the gun to shoot him instead. But he shot them all, except for two others who pretended to be dead, and survived.

They had gathered for prayer and bible study, when a young man wearing the flag of Rhodesia on his sweater, that sorry leftover of the world's nightmare, apartheid, entered the church. The flag of Rhodesia notwithstanding, they welcomed him. Because that is what Christians do. We reach across the barrier.

We are here for one thing. We have one job on this planet, reconciliation, the healing of the breach that sin creates among ourselves and consequently, between us and the God who will do anything to reclaim his children from our madness.

The Good News for You

Small churches can do things in liturgy that large churches cannot.  At Saint Andrew's, every member is a minister.  So the congregation itself preached the Easter sermon.

And they said nothing to anyone.  For they were afraid. (Mark 16:8)

....

Well, they must have got over it.  'Cuz here we are.

They must have told someone, who told someone, who told someone, who told...

Sister Marilyn.  Who told me that God loves me.  And she gave me a pair of shoes, because mine were worn out.

25 Words or Less -- 4 Lent 2015

Numbers 21:4-9
Psalm 107:1-3,17-22
Epshesians 2:1-10
John 3:14-21

In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

Anybody here watch football? Do you remember, 15-20 years ago on NFL games, there used to be a guy at every televised game who had a seat in the front row in the end zone.

Now, for those of you who are not fans, that means you would see that person whenever one of the teams was close to scoring. Because the camera would show the end zone in the shot, where they were headed for a touchdown or a field goal.

Of course, you wouldn't be looking at the people in the stands, you'd be looking at the teams. Except you couldn't miss this one fan, who had a sign, a big sign. The sign said, John 3:16. You'd see that sign, I don't know, at least fifteen times a game.

Do you know that verse? Can you say it by heart? I didn't grow up memorizing bible verses. But I have that one down. Say it with me.

Now, those were expensive seats. And I heard it was just one guy who went to all those games, all over the country, to hold up that sign. Some people thought he was pushy, embarrassing even, that he put the gospel in our faces, when we just wanted to watch a football game.

Lately, we don't see that verse in public places. The only verse I see put in my face these days is on Facebook.

Those who are ashamed of me and my words, of them

the Son of Man will be ashamed when he comes in this glory.

If one of your Facebook friends posts that, then you are supposed to prove you are a Christian  by sharing the same shaming statement for all your other Facebook friends to see and be ashamed into sharing it themselves. Or go to hell, I suppose.

What We Do With The Bible -- 2 Epiphany 2015

1 Samuel 3:1-20
Psalm 139
1 Corinthians 6:12-20
John 1:43-51

In the Name of Jesus. Amen.

Samuel, a foster child who hasn't a clue what his life is for. Corinthians, a congregation struggling with sexual ethics in a multicultural context. Nathaniel, a man who leaps from prejudice to gullibility in a single bound.  Why are we reading their stories?

The short answer - their stories are our stories. This book tells our story.

What do we do with this thing? I think opening the Bible is like peeling layers of onion. Of course, some people never bother to open it. They just wave it around to prove that somebody else is wrong. But if you do open it, then the more you read it, the more you peel off its surface layers, the more you start to experience it. Like peeling an onion, the deeper you go, the more you cry. but I'll get back to that.

In the Episcopal Church, we don't wave the Bible. We read it, at least on Sunday morning, when we read a lot of it, maybe more than we can digest at one sitting.

But then what?

Well, it depends on what kind of questions we ask. The difference between a "Bible-believing Christian" and a Bible-believing Christians is this: What kind of questions do we ask?