Rev. Dr. Frank Kirkpatrick Sermon

Trinity Church, Hartford, August 4, 2013
Eleventh Sunday after Pentecost, Proper 13C
The Rev. Dr. Frank G. Kirkpatrick
Colossians 3:1-11, Luke 12:13-21

Last Sunday’s lessons pointed to the importance of distinguishing between what Paul calls the elemental spirits of the universe and the spirit of Christ. The elemental spirits are those that are ultimately grounded in what he calls a philosophy of empty deceit. In today’s lessons the substance of that philosophy of empty deceit is identified both by Paul and by Jesus with greed. Now what is greed? It is something that we religious folk love to hate. When Gordon Gecko in the movie “Wall Street” extolled to his financial workers that “Greed is good” it was easy to mock him and to point out the obvious truth that religious morality does not condone greed. Rhetorically beating up on greed is one of the easiest tasks Christians face. But I sometimes wonder why, if greed is so obviously wrong, both why it is wrong and why the religious voice has so little real traction in diminishing the greed that abounds in our society and even in our own lives? Why is greed so intractable? Certainly greed is something from which none of us is exempt. It is so powerful a motivation that some, like Gordon Gecko and some political philosophers, have made it the reigning philosophy of their lives, the essential motivating force behind all our decisions and basic life choices.

At one level we all know greed in its mundane and often trivial forms and we all succumb to it at one time or another. I want the largest piece of pizza remaining in the box: I desire an automobile that is classier than anyone else’s. In each of these cases, however, I don’t really need what my greed wants or desires. Greed makes us want more than we really need in order to live a healthy and satisfying life. Notice I’ve said want and desire when referring to greed: not need. What we actually and truly need is what is essential to living lives that are ultimately fulfilling in relation to God and to other persons; that help us to realize all the gifts that God has given us, and that allow those gifts to flourish in ways that are appropriate for our particular personality. We don’t all have the same gifts and the flourishing of our personalities will differ from one unique individual to another. God did not make us by a cookie cutter from which each cookie comes out looking identical to all the others. Differences, healthy differentiation between one person and another, are what make our lives exciting and rewarding. But differences, when exploited by cunning and the philosophy of empty deceit, can also become the basis for greed. When I see someone else living, at least on the surface, with “stuff” that I don’t have, I am tempted to become resentful, to want what he or she has so that I can become fuller than they.

            What lies behind this desire for what others have? Basically it is fear: fear that I have not acquired enough stuff to defend myself against those ‘others’ out there who have more than I do and who might take away from me what I already am desperately clinging to. Then we project onto others the same fear and greed that we feel toward them. Greed arises from a psychology of perceived deprivation. Greed encourages us to believe that we don’t have enough to be truly happy and that there is only a limited amount of what is out there and that we’d better get our share now as quickly as possible and by whatever means necessary including deceit and immorality. In this sense greed thrives in an atmosphere of fundamental distrust: we simply do not trust that God will fill us with all things needful. Greed and a lack of trust in God go hand in hand. The more we fear being left on our own, the more room greed has to get a foothold in our psyches, promising us that the more we have the more protected we are from deprivation at the hands of others. Of course the feeling of deprivation is relative and greed exploits the virtually infinite number of things greed encourages us to possess. We want more of everything that money and advantage and privilege can buy. But what amount of income is enough, what size or number of houses is enough, what number of cars is enough, how many clothes, how much property, how many vacations, will satisfy greed? The answer is that no amount of things will ever fill the desires greed convinces us we must assuage because greed is insatiable.

            Now at some level we all know these truths: we know, in some deep part of our being and consciousness, that no amount of goods or material possessions will bring us the kind of satisfaction and fulfillment that love, family, friendship, and generous participation in a community of others brings. It has become for many people a kind of rhetorical overkill to continue harping on the elemental fact that as Jesus says in the gospel, “one's life does not consist in the abundance of possessions."  And yet we see all around us and even in our own lives to various degrees, the continual allure of gaining an over-abundance of possessions. Surely all those people who accumulate needless McMansions, or squander their moral credibility by succumbing to corruption and venality in the financial and political worlds, know that their success in accumulating possessions will not bring them ultimate happiness. It doesn’t take a degree in psychology or the fullness of a lifetime to have experienced the emptiness of a life lived solely in the pursuit of more and more possessions. We know in our bones that wealth cannot protect us from the failure of love, or tragic accident, or the death of a loved one and even the greediest people know this fundamental truth. Perhaps their inner knowledge of this truth leads them to double-down on their pursuit of trivial possessions because they will do anything to hide the truth from themselves.  

            And this creates a great quandary for our religious faith in the world today. How do we exercise a mission to the world to get it to recognize what at heart it already knows is the futility of the greed-driven life? To be sure there are some so-called philosophers who are brazen enough to extoll greed as the driving force for life because it drives the market and the market is that to which we must sacrifice all our most important life decisions. But such philosophers, I believe, are a clear minority in our society. Even those who publically espouse the virtues of greed and the evanescent pleasures of surrounding themselves with the best stuff money can buy, do know that this stuff will not bring inner tranquility or a sense of ultimate fulfillment. They know that the superficial life greed enables is as hollow as the houses they purchase simple to resell for a higher price.

            Perhaps the best we can do, as a religious community and as individuals, is not so much to ratchet up once again into hyper mode the bewailing and reviling of the greed that drives all of us from time to time, since such rhetoric has grown stale by over repetition. People are simply tuning it out. Instead, perhaps the key to the work of mission to the world is to remind it of the truer pleasures and deeper satisfactions that come from living with less. By living more fully by the grace of God; by living in total trust that God will provide all that is needful when the basic meaning of our lives is at stake. What the greed-driven life needs as an anti-dote are compelling counter-examples of what a good life can be in practice. Attack the life built on the never-ending accumulation of stuff, not by the old rhetoric of denunciation but by actually living lives that are built on a quiet and unshakeable trust in God and the indescribable delights of mutual love, compassion, moral integrity, and a willingness to serve others who are truly in need. These are the things that bring full and satisfying life. Paul says to his hearers, “you have stripped off the old self with its practices and have clothed yourselves with the new self”.  We haven’t given this new self to ourselves by clever manipulation of the elemental forces of the universe: Instead, it has been given to us: we didn’t acquire it through greed or a desire for more possessions: it was freely bestowed on us as a super-abundant gift from God. And this is what we have to offer to the greed-obsessed world: a new self, a self-grounded in God, a self at home with God because God gives us all that we need to be whole, healthy, flourishing, and ultimately filled and fulfilled. God gives us all that makes life meaningful and in the process enables us to live abundantly and fully through the only possession that truly matters: the grace and love of God and in community with others and in  service to the world.  

Celebrating the Life of Grace Haronian - A Homily by The Rev. Donald Hamer

Celebrating the Life and Ministry of

Grace Haronian

August 1, 2013

On the morning when we gather together to remember and honor the life of a much loved 54-year old mother of 6, perhaps it is good that we take a moment to think about unicorns. Unicorns are a legendary creature from Greek mythology, which are actually referred to a number of times in the Hebrew Bible. In the late middle ages and the Renaissance they became a symbol of purity and grace, symbolic of a chaste love and a faithful marriage. Today they are thought of more as gentle, magical, fanciful creatures that are a part of what dreams are made of. And so it is no mystery why this poem that Mark read was a favorite that Joe and Grace have shared throughout their marriage.

It is perhaps good to indulge a bit of fantasy on a morning when the human urge is to scream at God, “Why?” Why a relatively young woman who is the mother of six children? Why someone who gave so much? Why Grace? Why couldn’t the doctors cure the cancer? Why didn’t God cure her? Like the horn of the unicorn that protected it from all danger, why couldn’t, or wouldn’t, God protect Grace from the disease that afflicted her so mercilessly and for so long?

Our Hebrew forebears had a simple solution to these questions: Sin. Sin was the reason that people got sick – it was God’s judgment on the sinful human being, inflicting the sinful person with disease or some other misfortune. But that is not our Christian understanding. In Chapter 9 of the Gospel according to John, Jesus puts such beliefs to rest. In response to the question form the Pharisees, “Who sinned, this man or his parents that he was born blind?,” Jesus responds that sin has nothing to do with it. Rather, Jesus says, through the grace of God, even human illness can be turned to God’s glory.

And the truth of the matter is, we don’t know the answers to these questions. No one does. Like the Psalmist in Psalm 39, we want to know the end and the number of our days so we can get our life in order. All we know is that in this earthly life, death is the result we all come to. Why it happens, when it does, and the way in which it happens, continues to be a mystery to us all.

The passage from Ezekiel of the Dry Bones was a favorite of Grace’s, especially when read by Gloria Cheyney. It is kind of a magical story in its own right, a story of breathing life into death. And note how the bones come to life. God could simply will them to come to life, but that’s not what the Lord does. God tells the human agent  to prophesy to the bones; it is the human agent, acting in faith on the instruction of God, that prophesies the bones into mortal bodies.

But they have no breath. Once again, God could have willed the breath to give them life, but does not do so. Once again, the human agent is commanded to prophesy to the breath – and lo and behold, the now-formed bodies take on breath, and form the whole multitude of the nation of Israel.

And then a third time the Lord instructs the mortal to prophesy to the multitude, prophesying that the nation that thought it was dead will be restored to new life. And behold, it comes to new life.

Grace Haronian spent a lifetime making things come to life. It started at home, where she and Joe decided early in their marriage to make a home for children, for making dreams come true – first with Angelo and Connie, and in time Jacob and Victor would come along, and in recent years Kali and Destini. This service to children and young people was reflected in Grace’s service here at Trinity – in church school, with youth group, and as the director of the Trinity Asylum Hill Arts Program – an after school program in the arts for children from our neighboring community. Some of those young people whose lives Grace touched have continued to be in contact with her over the years, to thank her for the special memories she helped to provide for them. Like the summer that maybe never was, the memories can be even better than the reality when seen through the lens of time.

And right up to the end of her life Grace’s commitment to children continued in her role as an aide and tutor at East Hartford Middle School, where she was an important link between struggling students and the success that would help them move forward in developing their lives. Yes - Unicorns are still possible.

Grace’s life can be beautifully symbolized in the imagery of our Gospel passage – a vine and the branches. From the vine of Grace’s remarkable and self-giving life, branches have spread out and will continue to spread out across the world in the form of the lives she touched. The fruit of her labors is in those lives and the giving work that they continue to do in the world. And the fruit of her labors remains with those of us who were inspired by her life, by her energy, by her commitment to serve all of God’s children.

As we celebrate Grace’s life today, we have many unanswered questions. But we do know in our Christian faith is that just as God used his human servant to breathe new life into dry bones, God used his human servant Grace Haronian to breathe new life into people, relationships, and any group with which she served. And we know that now, in the nearer presence of
God, her years of pain and suffering are behind her, and she is experiencing the joys of that summer that maybe never was, and maybe, just maybe, spotting that stray unicorn.

Let us pray: Gracious and loving God, we thank you for the gift of your servant, Grace, and for the grace, faith and love with which she served her family, her church and her community. Help us to hold on to her faith and love as w continue to try to make sense out of her departure, and inspirte in us the same faith and love which you showed to us through her life. May we continue Grace’s loving work in the world, and look forward to glad reunion with her in your promised Land. We pray all these things in the name of the Lord of love, Jesus Christ. AMEN.j

Rev. Timothy Hodapp Sermon

Year C, Proper 12, 2013
Readings: Hosea 1:2-10; Psalm 85; Colossians 2:6-15, (16-19); Luke 11:1-13            
The Rev. Timothy Hodapp
Trinity Episcopal Church, Hartford           

God Father, Son and Spirit: open our minds and enter our hearts that we may receive Your grace this day. Amen.

My dear friends in Christ:

In his book, The Amazing Results of Positive Thinking, Norman Vincent Peale tells the story of his friend Jim Johnson.

Jim was given the job of saving a failing hotel. Other managers had tried, but unsuccessfully. The hotel was in a now-or-never situation and Jim decided to try something different.

Each night he drove home from the hotel, out of downtown Harrisburg, PA, across the river, up into the hills that surround the city. There he parked his car and sat, for the next 20 minutes, praying.

Jim prayed for the hotel guests, relaxing behind the lighted windows. He prayed for the hotel employees and for their families — many whom he knew. He prayed for the vendors who did business with the hotel. And, finally, he prayed for the city and its people.

Night after night, Jim drove to the top of the hill. And night after night, he parked his car and prayed the same prayer.

It wasn’t long before the situation at the hotel began to improve. Strange, but a new confidence replaced the anxiety of its employees. The more confident they were about their jobs and the hotel, the more a welcoming warmth greeted each new guest. A new spirit permeated its operations. This spirit invited new ways of approaching hospitality; new ways of thinking about the operations of the hotel; new ways of recognizing existing talent and encouraging the growth of new leaders among the staff.

The hotel experienced a remarkable rebirth; and Peale credits the hotel rebirth to Jim Johnson’s prayer. He ends the story writing, “If the prayer of one man could transform a hotel, think how the prayer of one nation could transform the world.”

Or, I’d add, think how the prayer of one parish could transform itself and the larger community.

Today, Luke invites us to consider what we receive when the Lord teaches the disciples to pray.

What place does prayer have in our lives? What does the Gospel say about prayer? And for that matter, what does Jesus say about prayer?

The gospels clearly describe four types of prayer. Over the centuries the church has delved into these, giving each prominence in our liturgies.

The movements are familiar to us.

Last year Gerard and I visited a young family for dinner. We’d brought gifts — tablets and colored pencils — for the two children who immediately saw the packages and in the midst of their frantic little dance were reminded by their mother: “What do you say?”

“Please,” they pleaded, holding out their hands. And before they could turn and tear the wrapping off, Dad said, “And?” “Thank you!” followed by a pause, a nod of our heads and a run into the living room to unwrap their gifts.

“Please” and “thank you,” followed by the other two forms of prayer — which are basic to all human, and dare I add spiritual, interaction — “I’m sorry” and “I love you.”

People in the business of prayer sometimes refer to these by the acronym A-C-T-S:

A for adoration or I love you

C for contrition or I’m sorry

T for thanksgiving or thank you

S for supplication or please

In the prayer of adoration, we acknowledge God as God. For example, in the Gospel of John we find Thomas falling on his knees, saying to Jesus, “My Lord and my God!" (John 20:28)

In the prayer of contrition, we acknowledge ourselves for who we are: sinners in need of God's mercy... as Luke describes through the prodigal son who laments his life: ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and you; I am no longer worthy to be called your son. (LK 15:21)

In the prayer of thanksgiving, we acknowledge God's many gifts to us. Thus we find Jesus himself praying, “Father, Lord of heaven and earth! I thank you...." (LK 10:21)

And finally, in the prayer of supplication, or please, we acknowledge our need for God's help. Think today’s gospel. Here we find Jesus teaching his disciples, “Ask, and you will receive; seek, and you will find; knock, and the door will be opened to you." (Luke 11:9)

It’s significant that when the disciples ask Jesus to teach them how to pray, he offers them the Lord's Prayer. This familiar prayer blends together the four prayer types.

We adore God, saying, “Our Father, who art in heaven, may your holy name be honored.”

We express contrition, praying, “Forgive us the wrongs we have done, as we forgive the wrongs that others have done to us."

While the Our Father doesn’t contain an explicit reference to thanking God, scripture scholars explain that the prayer of adoration and thanksgiving are synonymous.

They reason that when we adore God, we acknowledge him for who he is and what he’s done for us. Implicit in this acknowledgment is our gratitude to him for being the source of our hope, our love, and for giving us the gift of life.

And finally, supplication — asking God for what we need — is expressed when we say, “Give us today the food we need."

This raises a question: Can we persuade God to change his mind, depending on whether or not we ask?

C.S. Lewis ponders this in the essay Efficacy of Prayer. He maintains that God doesn’t need our human wisdom to guide him, nor does he require us to persuade him to do what is good, or need our human power to get the work done.

God can reach into our parish today and heal all who are sick, heartbroken, raging, dying. God can feed us without requiring our bodies’ needs to force us to push a cart through the Big Y.

But God didn’t create our world in this fashion. We’re not created to be spectators of his wisdom and power. Instead, he shares his power to heal the sick and feed the hungry and listen to the sorrowful.

This is what it means to be created in God’s image! To participate in God’s mission of restoration and reconciliation!

God’s “gift of prayer” is truly a “conferral of power.” When a physician melds God’s gift of science, knowledge and understanding with skill, she can make the right diagnosis to save my life. She doesn’t force God to alter his plans in regard to the length of my life.

It’s the same with prayer. When we ask our heavenly Father for help, we participate in the work of recreating our world by uniting our desires to God’s will.

And yet, a doctor may — for whatever reason — fail; or we — for whatever reason — seem to fail in our prayers, by not getting what we want and need.

The prayers go unanswered. Or do they? Might not the answer be, as some suggest, “No”?

I don’t believe that. Scripture defies this simple answer. Jesus tells his disciples, “... anyone who asks, receives; anyone who seeks, finds; anyone who knocks has the door opened to them.”

And, in James’ letter we read, “When you pray, you must believe and not doubt... that you will receive.” (JM 1:6)

James implies that God answers every prayer in a positive way — but the positive way, or “what’s best” is confusing when it isn’t what we want or have asked for. Sometimes, we don’t get the answers; in fact, often all we get are the questions.

And there’s great grace in living with the questions. It calms the immediate anxiety, my need for answers, and invites me, perhaps someday, to live into those answers; but in the meantime, there’s peace in knowing that I’ve been heard. The door’s open.

Don’t we all desire to step away from the pain, suffering, violence, fear, anxiety, worry that surrounds us, into the peace where restoration and reconciliation that’s promised by Jesus Christ to his disciples?

We join our sisters and brothers hungry for that peace in a world where an abandoned backpack in the midst of a cheering crowd rains terror on us; when the midsection of our country and coastlines are devastated by horrific storms; when the cost to life, limb, liberty and peace continues to mount in a world at war with terror; when we struggle with the emotions of fear, abandonment we’re reminded of the hunger that cries out to God: what are we to do? Teach us how pray! Give us hope!

When these doors open onto Sigourney Street and Farmington Avenue this morning, they reveal the mission field surrounding Trinity, the Episcopal Church in Hartford.  

You step out into your spheres of influence as a disciple of Jesus. The opportunity for you to participate in God’s mission of restoration and reconciliation are within easy reach. 

In the week ahead, there’ll be plenty of chances to be Christ’s body, his hands and feet, his eyes and heart, his compassion and care — and you will respond boldly to the world around you:

Catching the door and holding it for the young mother with her children in tow

Resisting the urge to take out the old gentleman who’s pushing his grocery cart in the center of the aisle and poking his way along toward your check out lane

Sending a card to someone, perhaps long forgotten, whom God’s spirit has suddenly brought into your mind because she needs to hear from you, today

Exhibiting patience when the sedan on your right zips ahead, cuts you off, and makes the light

Placing your hands you’re your husband’s, wife’s, partner’s and saying, “Let’s say a prayer together… for us, for our family, for our neighborhood, for our word”

Jesus knows your name. You’re his beloved. You are not alone. There is nothing you can do to separate yourself from the love of Christ. Nothing. And if you’ve been too busy, distracted, anxious of late to make much of an intentional difference? It doesn’t matter. He’s with you. Now.

Be inspired to live up to your mission, your baptismal call to talk to God in the most direct, human ways — please, thank you, I’m sorry, I love you — and be bold in saying “Yes. I am a disciple. I walk with God. God walks with me.”

Amen.

"The Message is Mission" by The Rev. Donald L. Hamer

Sermon Preached at Trinity Episcopal Church, Hartford

Pentecost 7, Proper 9 July 7, 2013

By The Rev. Donald L. Hamer

Luke 10: 1-11, 16-20

“The Message is Mission”

          We are now seven Sundays into this season after Pentecost. It is the time in the liturgical year when our New Testament lessons review for us the development of the early Christian church. Our vestments and banners are green to symbolize growth. And this morning, our Gospel lesson draws us to look at the growth of God’s mission.

          This passage from St. Luke’s Gospel is one of the cornerstones of the way God’s mission is laid out in the New Testament. So this morning, mindful of the temperature,  I would like to take just a few moments to highlight several parts of this passage – and if you have a highlighter or a pen or pencil with you, you might highlight them as well for further study or meditation.

          At the very beginning, we see Jesus appointed 70 others “and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go.” Now this is significant in two respects: First, we see a gradual expansion of the scope of Jesus ministry – Jesus first appointed 12 disciples, and now he is expanding that to 70. It will be only a matter of time before Jesus’ disciples go “to even the ends of the earth” as Luke writes in Acts 1:8. And secondly, we see how important those 70 are, Don’t you find it interesting that Jesus sends them to places where he himself intends to go – they are the advance scouts who will prepare the way for Jesus. Sound familiar? Think Advent – prepare the way of the Lord. Think John the Baptist. That is the role of the 70 – to prepare the way for Jesus. We’ll come back to this in a moment.

          The second aspect I’d like to highlight is the harvest and the laborers. The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. Note that Jesus doesn’t make the 70 responsible for creating the harvest – that’s God’s job providing the harvest. The job of the 70 is to help gather the harvest that God has provided and to pray for and recruit others to come join in the harvest. And the harvest here is not just a literal harvest – it is figurative as well. Harvest here refers to the followers of Christ gaining full maturity and being gathered into the reign of God. Where others see scarcity, Jesus sees abundance and opportunity. That is the job of the 70 - to follow Jesus’ lead.

          The third aspect to underline is the very next line: Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no nag, no sandals. . . The 70 are called to share not only the mission of Christ but its dangers and risks as well. Remember in last week’s Gospel when Jesus said “birds have their nests but the Son of Man has no place to lay his head?” The 70 are to share in the vulnerability of the one who has no place to lay his head, and who depends upon the hospitality of others. That’s why Jesus tells them to carry no extra supplies – they will be cared for by God through the hospitality of others.

          That’s not exactly the way we are used to doing ministry. It doesn’t presume an endowment or great wealth in order to advance God’s kingdom. It brings to mind the mendicant orders, such as the Franciscans, who were God’s messengers and lived by the gifts of others. The authority of the 70 is not in their status, or in their wealth, or in their power, or in their abilities – it is in the message they bring.

          And while there is much more in this passage that we will study over the coming months, a fourth aspect I would like to highlight this morning is the way the 70 proclaim the kingdom of God. Note that there is no success or failure. If people in a village embrace them, they have experienced the nearness of the kingdom of God. But note what Jesus tells them to do when they are rejected: Go out into its streets and say, “Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near. Whether they experience it as success or not, the 70 are always advancing the kingdom of God wherever they go.

The medieval theologian Erasmus wrote, “Bidden or unbidden, God is present.” And that is Jesus’ charge to the 70 – to bring the Kingdom of God near, wherever they are. While the context has changed over the past two thousand years, the message has not. Jesus’ charge to the 70 is also his charge to us. The message, NOT the messenger, is at the center of the mission. We, along with the 70, are the messengers – the instruments whom God has chosen to continue to bring the Kingdom of God near. The message is universal. At the center is the hope offered to all in the name of Jesus Christ. The message is the nearness of God and our call to live each day in Jesus name to make that kingdom known.          

When you think about it, it’s an awesome opportunity that Jesus provides us. Please join me in prayer: Lord God, Almighty and everlasting, you have brought us in safety to this new day: preserve us with your mighty power, that we may not fall into sin, nor be overcome by adversity; and in all we do, direct us to the fulfilling of your purpose; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

"Power" by the Rev. Dr. Frank G. Kirkpatrick

Fifth Sunday After Pentecost, Proper 7
June 23, 2013: Galatians 3: 23-29, Luke 8:26-39
Trinity Church, Hartford
The Rev. Dr. Frank G. Kirkpatrick

     On first reading, the Gospel this morning seems pretty straight-forward. A man is possessed by demons, Jesus’ exorcises them, they enter into swine and the man is restored to health. On the surface a simple, and with different variations, an often repeated healing story. But a closer look at the story reveals some unusual elements. Let’s look more closely at the details of the story. First, the demonically possessed man does not ask Jesus for help. In fact, the first words the man says to Jesus are "What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, do not torment me".  The man correctly identifies Jesus as the Son of God but thinks he has come to torment him further. Second, Jesus spends more time talking to the demons than he does to the possessed man. They first beg him not to release them back into the abyss but to put them into swine instead, and Jesus eventually complies with their request. Third, and most intriguingly, the people of the village, seeing the expulsion of the demons from the afflicted man and his restoration to health, become afraid and beg Jesus to leave the village immediately. Why in the world would the villagers want a man who removes demons to be gone from their midst: what are they afraid of?

     To unpack the layers of meaning hidden below the surface of this otherwise simple story of a healing we need to begin by recognizing, as Jesus did, that demonic possession is quite real. There is clearly a psychological dimension to demonic possession, but there is also something else at work here: demons, by whatever names we wish to refer to them (addictions or obsessions), are forces or powers within us working for the deconstruction of our essential selves. And they compete with and challenge the forces and powers of God working for the health and well-being of the self. The Gospel makes it clear that the power of demonic forces is so strong that they recognize only powers of equal or greater strength than their own: that is why they know Jesus and why they appeal to him. The persons over whom they have taken control are no longer able to resist them: only God can do so. Twisted power recognizes healing power and is afraid of it because they are competing for the same space: the soul of the human person. In Jesus the demons know that they are encountering the only force that can send them back to the place from which they arose, to the nothingness (what the text calls the abyss) from which they came. They know that they have arisen not from the power of good, but from the power of evil. And evil is ultimately the source of nothing good, it is the absence of good, the emptiness of life with no true meaning; of a life without intrinsic value; or a life whose meaning is self-destruction and in the process the destruction of others. Evil festers and grows when the light of goodness cannot penetrate its lair and when it arises from the abyss it lives on in the dark shadows of lies and deceptions. But evil can escape the abyss, the darkness, when we, out of anxiety and fearfulness, succumb to its allure and call it forth and give it the power to live in us, replacing the power of God. This was the original sin of Adam of Eve: to try to live by the literally God-forsaken power of their own pride as cunningly and deceptively portrayed to them by the lies of the demonic power of the serpent who promised them that they could live as gods.

     But once we are in the possession of demonic forces, we cannot easily recognize any other way to live. We become addicted to our demons and our demonic way of living. In fact, our addictions and obsessions are our demons: they possess us and they define us: they give us our identity, perverted as it may be, and we are loath to give up this identity since it is ours, it makes us who we are. We become addicted to our addictions and to the self they have created us to be. The personalities our addictions have given us are now familiar and comfortable and we are loath to change them. These addictions and obsessions are varied and diverse, both in type and in force. I have an addiction to books: reading and marking and using them for my research has defined me as a scholar for over half a century. They give me an identity as someone who is (at least ostensibly) intelligent and wise. Right now I am in the process of getting rid of hundreds of my books as I move from my college office to an office at my house. And each book I sell or give away erodes some of the identity I have developed as a scholar who lives through his books. But I know that my addition to books is a form of demonic possession, albeit a somewhat benign form. But it is demonic because it represents a false kind of power which I’ve allowed to help define my identity: a power of mind through which I could intimidate and dominate others. This is a power which if not kept under control can lead to unhealthy and destructive relations between myself and others. It represents a lust for power that replicates the power promised by the demon in the Garden. And the lust for power takes multiple forms in us. The possession of power promises (again on the basis of lies and deception), that with enough of it we can eliminate any dependence we might have on other people, on the luck of the draw, or on changes of fortune. The accumulation of power, we come to believe, gives us all the resources we need to hold at bay the threat of financial failure, medical bills, the loss of status, and all the other forms of social power we use to dominate others.  We have become a people obsessed with the desire for power. That’s why many Americans, under the false belief that we owe nothing to anyone but ourselves, have consistently treated the poor and the marginalized as not worthy of our collective support. Why people on food stamps and Head Start programs are the first to be abandoned when social programs are subjected to cost cutting. The people who receive the grudgingly bestowed benefits of our social safety net are the ones with the least amount of social power and therefore the first to be stricken from public support when charity is not enough.

     This syndrome of power holding on to power is a form of demonic possession. And it perhaps explains why the villagers who witnessed Jesus’ exorcism of the demons were so afraid. Jesus’ action has implicitly threatened the way of life of the villagers whose demonic possession was not as obvious or visible as the demoniac man, but who nonetheless are as addicted to their demons as he was by his. If Jesus the healer were to remove their demons, what would they be left with? Who would they be? What kind of person is someone without worldly social power? No wonder they feared Jesus: he had the power to take away their demons but in the process he would destroy their present way of life, a life to which they had become addicted and to which they saw no alternative.

     It is almost impossible to imagine a life lived without seeking to acquire more temporal power: the power of wealth, the power of force, the power of the gun, the power of sexual identity, the power of race and gender, the power of status, the power of religious identity, and, the power that symbolizes all these powers, the power of acquisition or of consumption. In our own demonic possession we have come to define ourselves by what we have acquired through the power of wealth. In fact we define the economic health of our nation by our levels of consumption, not by our levels of compassion.

     And the problem is that unless there is an alternative this model of power will continue to control us. But here is where the good news of Gospel has something else to say. As the writer of Galatians reminds us, in Christ we are given a new identity:  There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.  There is an alternative to a life lived under demonic possession. It is a life in which our identity is a gift from the only power in the universe working for good, for our health, well-being, fulfillment, and flourishing. It is a life in which there is no fear since our fears have been taken away by God’s redemptive power. It is a life freed from the deceptive and perverse seductions of the demons of humanly-created forms of power: the power of domination and control over others. It is a life lived out of and from the power of God. It is a life that might begin to look, no matter in how small a way, like the life of Jesus. Jesus’ life was completely without worldly power: he had no wealth and his only power was the power of persuasion and the power of love; a love so strong that he willingly died for all so that we all might live.

    When faced with the temptation of power exercised through domination, control, and fear, we can and we must opt for a different kind of power: one that exorcises the power of evil and false identity and replaces it with the power of humility, love, compassion, and a willingness, even unto death itself, to live by the power of God and by the power of the demons who seek to control us with the false belief that we can live by demonic power alone. And when we choose to live by the divine power we can truly do as Jesus admonished the healed man to do: "Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you."     

AMEN

"Redemption" by Marie Alford-Harkey, M.Div.

This blessing
does not claim
to raise the dead.

It is not so audacious
as that.

But be sure
it can come
and find you
if you think yourself
beyond all hope,
beyond all remedy;
if you have
laid your bones down
in your exhaustion 
and grief,
willing yourself numb. 

This blessing
knows its way
through death,
knows the paths
that weave
through decay
and dust.

And while this blessing
does not have the power
to raise you,
it knows how
to reach you.

It will come to you,
sit down
beside you,
look you
in the eye
and ask
if you want
to live. 

It has no illusions.
This blessing knows
it is an awful grace
to be returned
to this world. 

Just ask Lazarus,
or the Shunammite’s son.
Go to Nain
and ask the widow’s boy
whether he had
to think twice
about leaving the quiet,
the stillness;
whether he hesitated
just for a moment
before abandoning the place
where nothing could harm
or disturb.

Ask the risen
if it gave them pause
to choose this life—
not as one thrust into it
like a babe,
unknowing, unasking,
but this time
with intent,
with desire.

Ask them how it feels
to claim this living,
this waking;
to welcome the breath
in your lungs,
the blood
in your veins;
to gladly consent
to hold in your chest
the beating heart
of this broken
and dazzling world.

Rector's Annual Report to the Parish

Rector’s Annual Report to the Parish

 Sermon Preached on Trinity Sunday, May 26, 2013

by The Rev. Donald L. Hamer, Rector

My Brothers and Sisters in Christ:

           This is my Tenth Annual Report to the Parish, and though older, whiter and thinner on the top, I assure you that I feel even more blessed to be addressing you today than I felt back in January of 2004. I continue to be amazed – and blessed – by the dynamic energy of the Holy Spirit’s presence in this place, furthering God’s mission through the ministries carried out in love by you, God’s apostles who work in this particular part of God’s vineyard.

          This morning, as we have for a number of years past, we celebrate Trinity Sunday and our Annual Meeting in a time of uncertainty. I was at a seminar sponsored by the Hartford Fo0undation for Public Giving several weeks ago with some colleagues from the Conference of Churches, and the speaker stunned us all with the announcement: SHIFT HAPPENS. We did a double take also. He said: shiFt happens. He was reminding us that in the nonprofit world, as in all aspects of our human existence, change is not the exception, it is the norm.

          And so it is with the Christian life. It is always a challenge to apply the eternal truths of Jesus Christ to society’s changing landscape. We have been talking throughout Eastertide about “Practicing Resurrection.” Putting our money where our mouth is, as we say. Not just talking the talk, but walking the walk. Living our lives as though we REALLY BELIEVE that Jesus is Lord, that he died for something that is worthwhile, and that his rising again means that we too have new life in him.

          During the last half of 2012, we went through our “Church as Verb” series – talking about DOING CHURCH and not just BEING church. Being a faith community on the move, not being comfortable with what has been, but understanding that Jesus has something bigger and more important in store for us, and that it is up to us to partner with Jesus through the gift of the Holy Spirit to make that happen.

          That’s what we celebrated last week on the feast of Pentecost – the arrival of Jesus’ promised gift of the Holy Spirit.  Jesus repeats that promise in today’s Gospel:  When the Spirit of truth comes, he will guide you into all the truth; for he will not speak on his own, but will speak whatever he hears, and he will declare to you the things that are to come. He will glorify me, because he will take what is mine and declare it to you. All that the Father has is mine. For this reason I said that he will take what is mine and declare it to you.”

          So Jesus sets the challenge before us: All that God has belongs to Jesus, and through the Resurrected Christ, God has declared this to be our legacy as well. What will we do with it?

          As is customary on this day, I will now describe my activities as your rector and those of our members in furtherance of this important work, but very briefly. What I want to talk about this morning is the future.

My work in the Church and Community

As an ordained person in the church and as the Rector of Trinity, it is expected that I will share in “the councils of the church” and to be an ambassador from Trinity to the wider neighborhood. In that role, I am wrapping up in September my three-year term  as the President of the Conference of Churches and a two-year term as President of the Board of the Farmington –Asylum Business District, which works with other non-profits and for-profit businesses to improve the quality of life in the Asylum Hill and West End neighborhoods. I serve on this latter board with Lily Miller and Jill Barrett, also members of this parish.

I am also pleased to report new life in the Asylum Hill Christian Community. With the appointment of the new Pastor of Asylum Hill Congregational Church, the clergy of Asylum Hill have formed a monthly prayer and meditation group, which has brought us all closer to one another and the ministries of our congregations more unified. Among the steps we have taken is for Trinity and Asylum Hill to share resources with respect to our Stephen Ministries, which will benefit both our Stephen Ministers, our leadership teams and those whom we serve.

In the Diocese, I continue to serve on the Program and Budget Committee  -- this will be my last year of nearly eight years serving on that committee.  I am also working with Bishop Curry on an ecumenical approach in the City of Hartford to the problem of gun violence.

We must be aware also of the shifting sands of the wider church and, more locally, of our own Episcopal Diocese. Our traditional relationship with our diocese – in practice if not in theory --  has been as the outer portion of the spokes of a wheel, with “The Diocese” as the hub and the parishes branching off from that. Bishop Drew Smith introduced us to the theme of the Diocese as “God’s People on Mission.” Bishop Ian is leading us further on that journey to a more decentralized understanding of church –and that is having profound effects on the way in which our diocese operates. As I indicated last year, the church of the 21^st Century is going to look a lot more like the church of the 1^st Century than the church of the 20^th Century. In the past two years, the cathedrals in Wilmington, DE and Providence, RI, have closed their doors. Here in Hartford, our Cathedral enjoys a vibrant ministry to the homeless and the hungry, and the Cathedral is presently in discernment about the future direction of its ministries. This, of course, will not happen in a vacuum. The clergy and lay leaders of the Episcopal churches of Hartford and the region are in constant conversation about looking to the future.

And so I hope you get this sense of the possibilities that God is setting before us. There is little that is certain, but God is inviting us to follow Jesus, with the guidance of the Holy Spirit, to claim that which God has declared unto us.

Reviewing the Work of the Parish

          It would be traditional for me at this point to review the highlights of this past year. You can read all about that in the Annual Report which will be handed out immediately after the blessing and hymn. This year, for the first time, our lay leaders of the four ministry quadrants – Worship, Parish Care, Christian Formation and Outreach—have coordinated the writing of the Annual Report rather than coordination coming from the office staff. As with all new endeavors, there were some bumps, but we continue to make progress in adjusting the operations of a very active parish to a new management system encourages our lay ministry leaders to collaborate and support one another in doing God’s work at Trinity.

          I will tell you that 2012 continued Trinity’s trend of positive growth: We gained a net of 41 new active parishioners in 2012; our average Sunday attendance jumped to over 200; financial giving was up , again with a majority of parishioners increasing their financial support of the parish. Finances continue to be a struggle for us, however, due to our continued over-dependence on our endowment.

          We did take a positive step in the direction of financial health this past year when the Vestry worked with the Episcopal Church Foundation in creating a “new” endowment which has a spending plan limiting the amounts that can be withdrawn. Now when someone leaves money to the church, they have a choice to place it either in our existing endowment with some or no restrictions on its use, or they can select the default position, which is to place those funds into the new endowment from which no more than 5% can be withdrawn on an annual basis. With this in place, 2013 will see more of a focus on the reminder that appears at the bottom of our service leaflets each week: “Please remember Trinity Church in your will.” Planned giving and endowment will continue to be important to the Trinity of the 21^st Century. And we will continue to focus on the three other aspects of our financial management: Increasing revenue from Annual parish giving and outside sources of revenue; cutting back on operating expenses; and drastically reducing our annual draw from our existing endowment.      For the full report on all that we have been doing here I will leave you to the Annual Reports.

What’s Ahead

          All of the preaching about Church as an action word and Practicing Resurrection and the newsletter articles about a “mission discernment initiative” and the adult forums on “missional church” have been leading up to something, believe it or not. For the past 9 months, a group of us – basically the six of us who preach at Trinity on a regular basis – have been working together to plan for Trinity what Bishop Ian has been leading us through at the Diocesan level – becoming more of a missional church. This is what our Vestry will be working on when we go on our annual retreat the weekend after next, and it is what I am inviting each of you into as we continue our journey together.

          Because this is a big concept, I want to look at a very simple example so you get a sense of what this will mean for us. Take Trinity Church, Take Asylum Hill Congregational. Take Immanuel Congregational. Take St. Joseph’s Cathedral next door. All of us are so-called “mainline” or large denominational churches that are part of larger established churches with certain ways of worshipping God and certain governance structures and certain notions of what it means to “be church”. We were planted on Asylum Hill as a “church plant,” organized ourselves for worship and all the attendant duties of “running a church” and then looked for something to do outside of the four walls. The mission became part of what the church did. It became the church’s “mission.”

          Now I want you to think about Glory Chapel, which many of you know from our annual Asylum Hill Good Friday walk. Glory Chapel started as a ministry to the marginalized – drug addicts, prostitutes, , those who had lost their way in society or who had never found their way. After months and years of providing social services, it occurred to someone that they were doing God’s work, and that a focus on God could strengthen that outreach, and so it was only then that they formed a worshipping community.

          Do you see the difference in focus? In the case of the mainline churches, mission became something that the church did, and those activities gradually came to be understood as the “church’s mission.” In the case of Glory Chapel, the people were doing God’s mission, and out of that, they formed a worshipping community.

          Now I am not suggesting that we model ourselves after Glory Chapel. I AM suggesting that we take a lesson from our Christian roots and focus first and foremost on the work God is calling us to do when and where we can do it – whether that be on Asylum Hill or wherever – and organizing ourselves around God’s mission. And that inevitably must mean examining and rethinking the way we do business.  This is what I mean when I say that the church of the 21^st Century will look more like the church of the 1^st Century than the church of the 20^th Century – this is the model of Church that Roman Catholic author Raymond Brown talks about in his book, The Church the Apostles Left Behind. It is the church that Episcopal lay author the late Verna Dozier describes in her book, The Dream of God.

          The good news here is that, almost without realizing it, Trinity already is doing a lot of “missional church” activity. That is the major underpinning of our Quadrant Leadership model – organizing ourselves around MINISTRY instead of around THE MINISTER. And this is a good time to recall the question and answer in our Catechism: Who are the ministers of the Church? It is the priesthood of all the people – lay people, deacons, priests and bishops. Many of our ministries -- Trinity Day School, The Choir School of Hartford, Loaves and Fishes, Church by the Pond, AA and NA programs – all of these are hands on, boots-on-the-ground ministries that further God’s mission and, in the process, define who we are as the People of God at Trinity Episcopal Church. It is not so much what we are doing that will change over time, it is the way in which we approach it that will change.

          Over the summer, I will be appointing, with the guidance of the Vestry, a small group of 10 to 15 people who together will continue the work that our smaller working group has begun these past months. I’m not sure how long that work will last – maybe six months, maybe a year. The Holy Spirit will let us know. The idea will be to develop a strong core of lay leaders who will then take leadership in the wider congregation to continue this process of discovering our gifts for ministry, discerning the work God has for us to do, and figuring out how we apply the gifts we have to the work God has. This is part of St. Paul’s theology of gifts and needs – every community has the gifts necessary to meet the needs around it.

And so this morning we can state, along with St. Paul as he wrote to the Romans in this morning’s Epistle, that we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand; and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. And not only that, but we also boast in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.

          And so I close with this prayer for mission. Please pray with me: Everliving God, whose will it is that all should come to you through your son Jesus Christ, inspire our witness to him that all may know the power of his forgiveness and the hope of his resurrection, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever. AMEN.

What Happened to the Temple? By The Rev. Donald L. Hamer

Sermon Preached at Trinity Episcopal Church, Hartford

Easter 6, May 5, 2013 by The Rev. Donald L. Hamer

“What Happened to the Temple?”

Rev. 21:10, 22 – 22:5

          As we enter the final two weeks of Eastertide today, our scriptures begin to prepare us for that time when Jesus will no longer be among us even in his resurrected state. Reminding his followers that he will send the Holy Spirit to guide them after he leaves, he reassures them with the wonderful words, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give to you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do not let them be afraid.”

          This sending of the Spirit, which we will celebrate in just two weeks, is considered the birthday of the church – what makes the church a sacramental body: Christ working in and through the church through the indwelling presence and power of the Holy Spirit. What the disciples didn’t realize at the time was that Jesus was promising a very different world than the one they were used to. And that celebration of the Spirit will wait for Pentecost Sunday to arrive.

          For today, I would like to focus on the preview of that world that Jesus’ earliest followers were to face as it is described in the closing chapters of the Book of Revelation. The passage we heard this morning brings us to a mountaintop experience as God reveals to the writer a vision of what the new world order is to be. And as mountaintop experiences often do, this one is as surprising as it is stunning.

          The vision is one of the new City of Jerusalem – a restored City of Jerusalem – coming down out of the heavens. Now a little history is important to fully appreciate this image: The Revelation to John was written in about the year 95, some 40 years after most of Paul’s epistles and slightly after or contemporaneous with the Gospels. Jerusalem with its Temple had been the center of Judaism. But the Temple had been destroyed along with the rest of the city when it was overrun by the Romans back around the year 70. The central place of worship – the place that was thought to contain the very presence of God himself in the Holy of Holies was no more. And so the Judaism became dispersed, longing for the reconstruction of the Temple.

          So it is especially stunning when in the vision of the new world order, the New City of Jerusalem that God reveals to the author has no temple. In the new reality that Jesus is revealing to John, there is no central worship space. Instead, the author writes, “I saw no temple in the city, for its temple is the Lord God the Almighty and the Lamb – who is Jesus himself. In the new world order which is promised by Jesus, Jesus himself is the centerpiece of God’s mission.

          A review of other New Testament passages helps us to understand the idea of Jerusalem without a temple.

          In Matthew chapter 12 is written, ⁶I tell you, something greater than the temple is here. ⁷But if you had known what this means, “I desire mercy and not sacrifice”, you would not have condemned the guiltless. ⁸For the Son of Man is lord of the Sabbath.’ Mt 12

          Luke writes in chapter 21 of his Gospel, 5 When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, ⁶‘As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.’

          In the Gospel of John we read in chapter 18, ¹⁸The Jews then said to him, ‘What sign can you show us for doing this?’ ¹⁹Jesus answered them, ‘Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.’ ²⁰The Jews then said, ‘This temple has been under construction for forty-six years, and will you raise it up in three days?’ ²¹But he was speaking of the temple of his body. ^John 18

          St. Paul writes in chapter 3 of his first letter to the Corinthians,

16 Do you not know that you are God’s temple and that God’s Spirit dwells in you?^{* 17}If anyone destroys God’s temple, God will destroy that person. For God’s temple is holy, and you are that temple. 1 Cor 3:16-17

          Later in that same letter he writes, ¹⁹Or do you not know that your body is a temple^* of the Holy Spirit within you, which you have from God, and that you are not your own? ²⁰For you were bought with a price; therefore glorify God in your body. 1 Cor 6

          In the second Letter to the Corinthians, Paul writes, ¹⁶What agreement has the temple of God with idols? For we^* are the temple of the living God; as God said,
‘I will live in them and walk among them,
   and I will be their God,
   and they shall be my people. 2 Cor 6:16

          And as a final example, in the letter to the church in Ephesus Paul writes, ¹⁹So then you are no longer strangers and aliens, but you are citizens with the saints and also members of the household of God, ²⁰built upon the foundation of the apostles and prophets, with Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone.^{* 21}In him the whole structure is joined together and grows into a holy temple in the Lord; ²²in whom you also are built together spiritually^* into a dwelling-place for God. Ephesians 2:19-22

          It is clear that the teachings of Jesus and Paul about the Temple point in only one direction: That is, to new understandings of worship, to new understandings of what is holy or sacred, and to new understandings of who we are. The old Temple was the religious center for faithful generations, considered to be a man-made building that was the dwelling place of God; now God alone, in Jesus the Lamb, is the Temple. This new City is a place where everyone is welcome – its gates are never closed to the outside world. It is a place of healing – running through it are the life-giving waters of the river, and on either side of the river, the Tree of Life with its 12 different fruits and its leaves which “are for the healing of the nations.” And the river itself contains the water of life, reminding us of our own rebirth into God’s family through the waters of baptism and in our Christian faith, hope for new life in the resurrected Christ.

          John’s vision reveals to us yet another understanding of what it is to “practice Resurrection.” In its closing verses, we see that in the new world order that Jesus has introduced, “church” is not a place, and it is even more than something we do – it is who and what we are. God is the Temple, and through our baptism, so are we. May our lives be true to that awesome calling. AMEN.

Heaven : The Rev. Dr. Dennis Winkleblack

HEAVEN

John 10: 22-30 Revelation 7: 9-17 Acts 9: 36-43 Psalm 23

            When was the last time you heard a sermon about “heaven?”  Today guided by the beautiful imagery you heard read from the biblical book, Revelation, you’re going to hear one.     

            Now, before you get too excited, I need to remind you that in one sermon a preacher can’t begin to address all the theological concerns inherent in a doctrine of heaven or more properly, eschatology, that branch of theology that has to do with last things.  So, if this sermon creates more questions about heaven then you already have, then that’s good. 

            What’s more, to add to the drama of a sermon on heaven this morning is the irony that tomorrow is Earth Day!  Heaven and earth: dear preacher, pick one. 

            Well, I am picking one – heaven – because the lesson from Revelation is the one that most grabbed me today.  Indeed, it’s a scripture perfectly appointed for us in this Easter season when we’re reminded of the importance of living resurrection, of living our resurrection. 

            So, how does heaven fit in with living resurrection? For me, it has to do with fear.  That is, in his resurrection Christ not only destroyed death forever, but also the fear of death. 

            Why is this important?  Because it’s our fear of death – implicit or explicit – that keeps us focused on all the wrong things during our brief sojourn on this planet.

            So, I’m picking heaven today, but I hope, I pray that you will get the larger picture:  That is, we can’t begin to really love earth until we embrace heaven. 

            Accordingly, in a few words from the poet Wendell Berry, for me heaven and earth come together:  “Found your hope, then, on the ground under your feet. Your hope of Heaven, let it rest on the ground Underfoot.” 

            This, of course, is where all good heaven theology needs to lead us: to that which is underfoot.

            Of course, first we need to imagine this hope of heaven.

            I say imagine for an obvious reason: 3D schematics are simply not available.  Which is the reason our spiritual forbears described heaven in such visual effects as pearly gates and streets of gold.

            Personally I love the images from the prophet Isaiah about the world of shalom that God intends where enemies become friends, where no innocents are harmed, etc.  We also have Jesus’ words about going to prepare a place for us, a mansion of many rooms.

            And then there’s today’s reading of John’s vision of our final home: “They will hunger no more, and thirst no more; the sun will not strike them, nor any scorching heat; for the Lamb at the center of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of the water of life, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes.”  Isn’t that beautiful?

            Still others have been inspired to paint or sculpt or write poetry or music that made heaven more imaginable.  

            For example, the hymns of African-American Christians in particular are rich with the faith that though things are hellish now and I don’t even have shoes, “when I get to heaven going to put on some shoes and march all over God’s heaven.”  Or the hymn we’re going to sing later, “When We All Get To Heaven,” which was written by Eliza Hewitt who spent most of her adult life confined to bed. 

            To be very sure, it’s understandable why people who are persecuted or very ill with no hope in this life would focus on life after death, on heaven. 

            Which is not so much the case now.  Indeed, if a person expresses much of a longing for heaven nowadays, that person will likely be viewed with great suspicion. 

            And then, of course, there’s the accusation Christians hate to hear directed at them by their critics and lead to preachers like me doing all we can to avoid heaven-talk:  the criticism that our religion is only about pie in the sky by and by.  Which is the opposite of true religion that is nothing if not solidly grounded underfoot.

            In any case, for whatever reasons, you don’t hear much about heaven any more.  Which is too bad. 

            Why?  Ultimately because never thinking about heaven is to waste a real blessing from God.  But, not only that, without a vision of heaven to lure us, we can actually end up making a hell of a mess out of our lives.

            So, back to my earth day project and a vision of heaven.  A vision.  The writer of Proverbs says that without a vision, the people perish.  Or as Yogi Berra once said, “If you don’t know where you’re going you’ll never get there.”  Sometimes Yogi got it just right!

            A vision of heaven.  We need a vision that is faithful to our Holy Scripture, consistent with our faith tradition and grounded in reason.  Plus, to say the least, this vision must be accessible to not only the best educated among us but also the least.

            Accordingly, we must all be grateful that God has given us a teacher, Jesus, who used metaphors and similes all day long - The Kingdom of Heaven is like…  Pearls, a mustard seed, leaven, etc.  Who said, “I am the way, the gate, the way, the truth, the life.” 

            The Masters’ Golf Tournament was held last week in Augusta, Georgia.  It’s probably the most famous golf tournament in the world.  Some years ago, Arnold Palmer, upon seeing the Augusta National Golf Course for the first time, declared, “When I first pulled down Magnolia Lane and looked at the golf course I thought this must be what golf is like in heaven.”

            Good going, Arnie.  That’s the spirit.  After all, it’s this kind of metaphorical thinking that produced the traditional image of heaven as a place of pearly gates and streets of gold.

            So we need a vision that we can grasp.  And we need a vision that inspires.  A vision for all creation and not just for our golfing pleasure.   

            Still, if heaven is only a place for me and people like me to escape hot places and annoying people, then it’s a poor heaven. 

            On the other hand, if heaven can be a goal for inclusivity; if heaven can be a goal for consummate love and justice; if heaven can be a goal where no one has too much and no one has too little; and where everyone is delighted that this is so;  if heaven can be a goal where there is no guilt, no shame and no messing up; if heaven can be a goal where no one is even tempted to harm another or commit an act of terrorism; if heaven can be a goal for people on the margins being treated as people on royal thrones; if heaven can be a goal for all colors of skin being equally prized and glorious; if such is heaven, then it can be a goal for us right now, and inspire us to keep reaching for it for the sake of God’s mission in creation. 

            Well, enough rational thought.  If nothing else, I want to leave you with a mind-picture, a heart-balm and a spirit-driver to the end that the lure of heaven might inspire all you are doing underfoot.  For this, we need some images. 

            Here I want to introduce you to Daniel Aleshire, who is now Executive Director of the Association of Theological Schools in America and Canada and a former pastor and professor.  His portrait of heaven is, to me, audaciously wonderful. 

            This is heaven, he writes.  “Imagine the best there can be, and it is better.  Imagine the most beautiful there is, and it is better.  If imagining is hard for you, how about math?  Take the best day you ever had, add to it your most tender moment ever, multiply that by the best thing you ever did, then add the greatest joy you have ever experienced and the most noble desire you ever had.  Now multiply that by 1500 taken to the power of a cube, and you will have some of the dimension of heaven. 

            “If math is hard for you, how about a picture?  Picture a world where each person makes a difference, each makes a contribution, and everybody knows life is better because of the gifts each brings.  Picture a world where every unblessed child has a beaming parent telling people on the street, “This child is mine, and I am so proud with her.  Picture a world where every abused spouse experiences only gentle touches and kind words and knows the joy of fearless love.

            “Picture a world where every poor soul who craved the addictive and was slave to the destructive has been set free, and never feels those death-dealing compulsions again.

            “Imagine a world where there is more than enough food for everybody, and none of it ever goes to waste.  Imagine a world where everybody has a room, and everyone is perfectly content with the place that was made just for them.

            “Picture a world where Ku Klux Klanner and neo-Nazi cry in joy while they sing with people they used to hate, ‘Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, we’re free at last.’”

            “Imagine – you.  You get up in the morning, wanting to do what is right. And that’s exactly what you do!  As you do the good and perfect, you never get bored by it.  You get a kick out of it.  It feels right. . . fits like an old shoe.  It’s so much fun doing good, some days you sneak off by yourself late at night,  when nobody is looking, and do some more.  It’s more fun than getting that last bowl of Haagen-Daaz.  It no longer seems so strange for you to do what is right and loving and just.  It is just what comes naturally to you.  You go to bed at night with no regrets, no remorse, no second thoughts.  No one is upset with you.  No one has misunderstood you, no one has been offended by you.  You go to sleep thinking to yourself, ‘Life just can’t get any better than this.’” 

            “But in the morning when you wake up, it does.  Imagine that!”

            Isn’t all this heavenly?  And you know what, it’s faithful to our Biblical tradition.  And, inspirational enough to lift us beyond the thus and so of every day life.  And, hopefully powerful enough to get under our skin, get into our heads and hearts so that, thrilled and empowered by an audaciously wonderful God, this vision will impel us to live our lives passionately, concerned about making life for others as close to heavenly as we can, now.

            Aleshire also tells the story of his then 4 year old son, Jonathan who out of the blue asked his mother, “Mommy, when do we go to live with Jesus?”  His mother responded, “When we die.”

            Jonathan then asked: “Will Jesus have any food?”  And his mother replied with a smile, “Yes.”

            But Jonathan persisted, “Will Jesus have food I like?”  Aleshire’s wife said “Yes.”

            But Jonathan had one more question.  “Will Jesus have macaroni and cheese?”  When his mom said “yes,” Jonathan jumped up and down shouting, “Goodie, Goodie, Goodie.”

            Whether we’re 4 or 104 or in between, we need a hope, a goal, a vision of God’s intention to inspire our days on earth, our days of caring for what’s underfoot.  Confident that when our days are done, we can say with 18^th century Anglican priest and founder of Methodism, John Wesley, who said fearlessly on his death bed: “The best is yet to come.”

Saul and Ananias: Two Perspectives by Fr. Hamer

Sermon Preached at Trinity Episcopal Church, Hartford
Easter 3, April 14, 2013 by The Rev. Donald L. Hamer
Acts 9: 1-20

“Practicing Resurrection: Through the Eyes of Saul and Ananias”

          St. Luke’s dramatic description of the conversion of Saul that we heard in today’s passage from the Book of Acts is one of the best known stories from the New Testament. The 180-degree turnaround of Saul from being one of the most zealous persecutors of Jesus’ followers to becoming their most zealous advocate under the new name of Paul is remarkable, indeed. I think the story can also make many of us uncomfortable and, therefore, lends itself to be misunderstood.

          In the course of my discernment  over my call to ordained ministry, I can’t tell you how many times, and in how many different contexts, I had to write what is sometimes known as a “spiritual autobiography.” Applying to the Diocesan Ministry Exploration Program in 1995, applying to be a postulant for Holy Orders in 1996, applying to Yale Divinity School and Berkeley Divinity Schools in 1997, writing for ordination approval, looking for positions at St. Mary’s and later here at Trinity, applying to Hartford Seminary in 2009 – every single one has involved me writing about my spiritual journey. And every single essay has included a line that goes something like: “I was baptized as an infant and have never really known a time when I was not a part of the Christian church. I have never really had a ‘Road to Damascus’ experience, but have always had a sense of God working in my life.” And it is the absolute truth.

          My guess is that for many of you, the same sentence would be true. And while that speaks to a certain faithfulness and life-long connection to the Christian church, it can leave us feeling a little less than special in our faith. I mean, why haven’t I had some powerful experience like Saul had? Some experience that, following which, you would have no choice but to say, “Alleluia! Christ is Risen! The Lord is risen, indeed. Alleluia!” and to run out living your life in a way that everyone would know that something dramatic had happened to you. But my guess is most of us have not had that. And it can leave us feeling a little inferior, giving us, if you will, a “spiritual inferiority complex.” And we are then lured into the logical extension of that sort of thinking, that we don’t have anything special to offer the church in a way that does much to further God’s mission.

          Since Easter day we have been talking here at Trinity about “Practicing Resurrection.” For those of you who were here on Easter you may recall that I described three steps that are necessary to the practice of resurrection: Removing or uprooting something, some aspect of our lives that leads us away from God or is not helpful to us in our relationship with God; second, replanting or transplanting something in a new place or in a new way that will feed us in that relationship; and third, being open to receiving the grace of God to strengthen us and guide us on that journey. So in the few moments we have this morning I would like us to look more closely at the practice of resurrection through the eyes of the characters, Saul and Ananias.

          The early Christian writer Onesiphoros writes that Paul was ‘a man rather small in size, bald-headed, bow-legged, with meeting eyebrows, a large, red and somewhat hooked nose.’ (It doesn’t exactly bring up the image of a charismatic and powerful leader!) At the same time, he was ‘strong-built, full of grace, for at times he looked like a man, at times like an angel.’ In the Book of Acts, he is called by his Hebrew name, Saul, until his clash with the wizard Bar-Jesus on the island of Cyprus. In his letters, he always refers to himself as “Paul.”

          Born in Tarsus in the first years of the Christian era, he inherited his Roman citizenship from his Jewish father. He was always proud of his birthplace, which was the provincial capital of the Roman empire. His citizenship gave him the right to vote, and a dignity which he was quick to claim when it served his purposes – Saul and later Paul was not averse to taking advantage of having the best of both worlds.

          But Saul was above all a faithful Jew, a “Hebrew born of Hebrews” he wrote. Like his namesake King Saul, he was a member of the tribe of Benjamin. A Pharisee and the son of a Pharisee, destined to be a rabbi, he would have joined his father once he was old enough in the adult worship in the synagogue at Tarsus. About the year 28, when he was about 18, Saul went to Jerusalem to study theology, and by the time he was 30, he was an acknowledged defender of Judaism against the Greek-speaking element of the Jewish-Christian community. Paul was particularly incensed by the teaching of St. Stephen, the first martyr and a leader among the Hellenistic Jews, and participated in Stephen’s stoning to death and the persecution which followed.

          And so we can picture Saul, having received a commission from the high priest, riding over the hills of Judea and Samaria, perhaps passing through the birthplace of the prophet-Messiah Jesus in Nazareth, through Capernaum and up the Jordan valley on the road to Damascus. His one focus is on tracking down any Jews who are leading fellow Jews astray with this crazy story about Jesus being the Messiah.

          And then it happens. He has an encounter with the risen Jesus, who asks why Saul is persecuting him. The one who has been so strong, so self-righteous and violent in his attacks against the followers of  Jesus, is struck blind and left helpless on a road far away from home. After fasting for three days, he is then visited by a Jewish Christian, Ananias who greets him, lays hands on him, ecomes an instrument of restoring his sight and invites him to be baptized. Saul embraces the invitation to “be a witness for Jesus to all men of what you have seen and heard.” (Acts 22:14-15).

          In this story we see Saul letting something go – his rigid understanding of the Jewish Law and his zealous persecution of the Jewish followers of Christ. He replanted something – his newfound knowledge and understanding of Jesus as the Messiah – an understanding no doubt helped along by the fact that he was struck blind and spoke to Jesus directly. But what allowed this replanting to flourish was his openness to hear the voice of the Lord and to be enlightened and strengthened by the power of the Holy Spirit.

          Ananias, on the other, hand, had a very different experience. He is, by the way, not to be confused with the False Christian in Jerusalem described earlier in the Book of Acts, nor is he the same person as the high priest in Jerusalem who would later chair the council at Paul’s trial. This Ananias was a Christian disciple in Damascus, a man whom Paul would later describe as “a devout man according to the Law, well spoken of by all the Jews who lived there.”  But he lived kind of under cover – not unlike Paul, he claimed the best of two worlds, being a faithful Jew in public, and a quiet follower of Jesus in his private life. So, as God so often chooses the unlikely choice, it is not surprising that God chose Ananias to be the one to meet the recently-blinded great persecutor of the Christians and convey God’s message of forgiveness.

          But if God’s choice of Ananias is not surprising, Ananias’ initial reaction to that task is not surprising, either. God’s instructions to him will require him to come out of the closet, if you will, and proclaim whom he really was – a follower of Jesus. So when Jesus in the vision tells him what he is to do, it is not surprising that his initial response is to protest, “Lord, I have heard from many about this man, how much evil he has done to your saints in Jerusalem, and here he has authority from the chief priests to bind all who invoke your name.” Ananias isn’t thinking “Wow, Jesus talked to me and I’m gonna be a star!” He’s thinking, “No way! This is my ticket to being target practice for the next stoning.”

          It would have been the easy thing for Ananias to say, “Thanks, Jesus, but I’m outta here.” It would have been more comfortable.  But what did he do: He left the safe, closeted Ananias behind; he did what he was told and left the safe place to encounter the Christian killer in the name of Christ; and he had the trust that God was faithful to God’s promises – that events would unfold as Jesus promised. By pulling up, replanting, and receiving God’s grace, Ananias became the instrument that transformed the biggest threat to the early Church into its most brilliant architect and most prolific advocate.

          You see, God was able to use both of these very different people to further God’s mission. Both of them had to give up the person they were and become the person God desired for them to become, and to do that they had to trust God to do some of the heavy lifting in the process. The fact is that the main actor in this story is neither Saul nor is it Ananias. The main actor, as is the case in every story of conversion, is the God who creates, the God who redeems that which needs conversion, and the God who sustains us in the process. God can work through a Saul, God can work through an Ananias, and God can work through you. May God grant us the openness to receive God’s wonder-working power, the strength to leave behind that which does not sustain Resurrection life, and the courage to welcome the new life that comes only through Resurrection hope. AMEN.