Author: Lee Borden

Father Wells has been kind enough to provide us with the text of the annual report he presented at our church meeting yesterday:

ANNUAL REPORT
January 5, 2014
927th Week as Priest
753rd Week at St Dunstan’s
18th Week at Epiphany-Tallassee
NOTHING CAN STOP THE GOSPEL
(Part Two)

Grace to you, and peace, from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.
In my sermon earlier today, I made the claim that nothing can stop the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Well, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it. Nothing can stop the Gospel.
The Episcopal Church of the Epiphany begins its 20th Year in Tallassee with a strong sense of accomplishment and a deep desire to make a difference in the lives of men and women and boys and girls in this place. We should not be afraid, and we should not turn away from discovery, learning, challenge, possibility, and growth.
The Year 2013 has been a time of Restoration and Renewal. We have lost members and we have gained new members. This, in my experience, is the way things often are outside the major cities of Alabama. But the way that we move ahead as the Episcopal Church in Tallassee is to be hopeful in our outlook, faithful in our worship, and diligent in our responsibilities.

This past year, there were 46 Sunday services of Holy Eucharist, and one Weekday Holy Eucharist (Christmas Eve).
On 6 Sundays, we had Morning Prayer.
Holy Communion was taken to shut-ins and the home-bound 18 times during the year.
There were three Holy Baptisms at Epiphany: Avery Lyn Jones, Kara Shea Davis, and Jim Davis. Kara Shea and Jim were also confirmed by Bishop Santosh.
Greg and Lynne Dubay were married here in April.
Here are my recommendations to the Vestry and People of the Episcopal Church of the Epiphany in Tallassee:
1. Worrying about the past is a waste of your time and effort. We can’t do anything about the past except learn from it and move forward.
2. Worrying about the present is helpful only if it spurs us to good decisions and right actions. If you are worried about your church, then seek to do something to help.
3. Worrying about the future is despair, one of the deadly sins. Rather than worry, work for the future of the church, and have confidence that Almighty God will take care of us and show us the path to take.

4. Continue to do the good work of your Rice & Beans Outreach Ministry. Let the people of Tallassee and the surrounding area see how much you love each other, and how much you love your neighbors.
5. Do not worry about perfection—in worship, in music, in preaching, in ministry—not in any part of our work together as the Church. Strive for righteousness—which is not perfection, but faithfulness. Keep trying. Keep doing your best.
6. Remember that God will give us resolve and strength, Christ will give us grace and mercy, and the Holy Spirit will give us wisdom and understanding.
7. And finally, as your priest and pastor, I ask you not to leave the Episcopal Church. Your life is of infinite importance to God, and your participation, your forgiving spirit, your generous giving, your attendance, and your cooperation are essential to this congregation. AMEN.

This week’s gospel lesson won’t make much sense unless we understand two basics about the Jewish culture of the day. First, we need to know something about the Sadducees, namely that they rejected the concept of an afterlife. They paid no attention to the psalms or the prophets, having decided that the only books of the scripture that mattered were the Torah, the Pentateuch. Finding in the Pentateuch nothing about heaven or an afterlife, the Sadducees had concluded that all justice that occurred would occur in this life. Aside: my old friend Jim Robey kept me straight about the Sadducees and the Pharisees. “The Sadducees didn’t believe in heaven, so they were sad, you see.”

The second basic is about Levirate marriage. It’s described in Deuteronomy 25:5-10, part of the significant body of the Pentateuch that never appears in our Revised Common Lectionary. Levirate marriage required that if a married man died leaving a childless widow, the dead man’s brother should marry the widow and help her produce children who could then succeed to the name of the widow’s deceased husband.

So when the Sadducees confronted Jesus with this strained hypothetical, they were trying to demonstrate how absurd the idea of resurrection would be. One can just imagine the glee with which they had plotted and planned their question to confuse this upstart carpenter who presumed to lecture the learned scholars of the faith. Their use of the term “teacher,” or rabbi, is thinly veiled sarcasm. This is not a respectful exchange; it’s the opening salvo in an intended rhetorical smackdown.

The implacable Savior dismisses their question with a theological shrug, basically telling them their question is nonsensical. Those worthy of the afterlife, Jesus says, are above earthly concerns like marriage and death. They are like angels, forever equal in God’s eyes, forever with God.

As with so many other scriptures, the risk we run when we study this passage is that we assume it conveys all relevant information about resurrection; it doesn’t. It does provide a useful perspective, though, on which we can reflect as we seek to understand more of God’s ultimate plan for humanity.

We Christians LOVE end times. This week’s epistle lesson teaches us that our fascination with the end of the world is nothing new; it was rampant in the church at Thessalonica 2,000 years ago.

What has Paul worried is not a sermon from the pulpit or a blurb in the notes; it’s a frightening whispering campaign, racing quickly and quietly through the congregation. “The end of the world is here. We’re all going to die” or words to that effect. Paul’s response is patient and sure: Remember that God has chosen you. Hold fast to what we taught you. And remember that God has wonders in store for you.

Our reading finishes with Paul’s powerful benediction in 2:16-17: ” Now may our Lord Jesus Christ himself and God our Father, who loved us and through grace gave us eternal comfort and good hope, comfort your hearts and strengthen them in every good work and word.” Yeah.

24th Week after Pentecost
Feast of William Temple
November 6, 2013
918th Week as Priest
744th Week at St Dunstan’s
9th Week at Epiphany

DEAR EPIPHANY FRIENDS, If you find yourself in Auburn on a Wednesday morning, stay for Holy Eucharist I with Prayers for Healing at 12 noon at St Dunstan’s. Today’s lessons are for the Feast of William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury, d. 1944. Here is the homily …

SERMON 806 STRIVING FOR JUSTICE

Grace to you, and peace, from God our Father, and the Lord Jesus Christ. Amen.

The ninety-eighth Archbishop of Canterbury was among the most remarkable men of his age. An Englishman through and through, William Temple was born in 1881 and died in 1944, at the prime of his life in the early years of World War Two.

Temple was born to wealth and prestige, but he did not count these things as something to be grasped. His education was in the best schools, and yet he met all people where they were, with grace and hospitality. I feel that I know this man, because he shares so much in common with the Rt. Rev. William McDowell, Fifth Bishop of Alabama. They were almost exact contemporaries. Both were well educated and born to proud old families, and both had what is called “the common touch,” as well as a passion for justice.

These qualities—humility and a passion for justice—are necessary for great leadership, whether it is a government, a church, an organization, or a corporation. And today in 21st Century America, I am afraid both are in short supply.

Humility is viewed as weakness by the rich and powerful. And justice? Well, justice is considered a fiction. What matters, it seems, is winning at all costs—not justice. What matters is not losing, or even better, not getting caught. Profit is what’s important, no matter the human cost. Stock price is everything; justice is given lip-service and nothing more.

How can this be? Justice is named 160 times in the Scriptures. In Deuteronomy, the Book of the Law, it is said,

Justice, and only justice, you shall follow, that you may live and inherit the land which the LORD your God gives you.

King David is remembered as great in the Books of the Kings and the Chronicles of the Kings—not for the battles he won, but because he upheld justice:

David reigned over all Israel; and he administered justice and equity to all his people.

The Psalmist understands that not only does God require justice for his people, he loves justice:

He loves righteousness and justice;
the earth is full of the steadfast love of the LORD.

The Suffering Servant of Isaiah’s prophecy, whom we understand to be a foreshadowing of the Messiah, is a champion of justice:

Behold my servant, whom I uphold, my chosen,
in whom my soul delights;
I have put my Spirit upon him,
he will bring forth justice to the nations.
A bruised reed he will not break,
and a dimly burning wick he will not quench;
he will faithfully bring forth justice.
He will not fail or be discouraged
till he has established justice in the earth;
and the coastlands wait for his law.

These same words are spoken again, in the Gospel of Matthew, including the call for Christ to establish justice in the land.

Archbishop Temple, in his day, did great work to establish justice. We, too, are called to work for justice—in the Prayers of the People, our Eucharistic prayers, and in the Baptismal Covenant.

Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

We will, with God’s help. AMEN.

24th Week after Pentecost
Feast of William Temple
November 6, 2013
918th Week as Priest
744th Week at St Dunstan’s
9th Week at Epiphany

Pope John XXIII was the so-called “Caretaker Pope” who convened Vatican II. He used this week’s psalm to call the church to the task of what he called “aggiornamento.” Roughly translated, “bringing up to date with a new song.” Who can read Psalm 98 and not hear the same call?

We at Epiphany don’t look to anyone else to do our singing for us. We don’t need no stinkin’ choir, man. We are the choir! So we can resonate more than most modern Christians when the psalmist bids us to “shout with joy” before God, to sing to the Lord with the piano, the violin, the guitar, the ukulele, and the dulcimer.” Okay, we took some liberties there, but you get the idea. And so do Caleb, and Esther, and Father Wells, and Tom, and Amanda, and Adrian, and Jean.

Psalm 98 is one of a group generally referred to as “enthronement psalms,” because they celebrate the kingship of Yahweh. And Psalm 98 is another that gives active voice to the so-called “inanimate” objects on the earth: “Let the rivers clap their hands, and let the hills ring out with joy before the Lord.”

Our Old Testament reading this week is from Haggai, that obscure book stuck back there between Zephaniah and Zechariah near the end of your Old Testament. Aside from the obvious purpose to challenge the prodigious OT pronunciation skills of our lay reader Amanda Borden, one can be forgiven for wondering why this passage is here. The short answer is that it embodies hope and future glory.

We will dwell on this more during the season of advent, but there’s a 50-cent word that comes into play here – eschatology – by which we mean study of the end times and with it the four essentials of death, judgment, heaven, and hell. We could choose to view this passage through eschatological eyes, but that’s probably uncalled for. It’s more likely that Haggai’s call is very focused on the here and now. He is acting as a cheerleader for the reconstruction of the temple, and to seal the deal he dangles before a shattered, defeated people the prospect of riches greater than ever before. Yeah, this is just a tad scary.

Fortunately, Haggai is more than a shill for the local building contractors. His is in the final analysis a healing message of hope and encouragement. What healing and encouragement do you need to hear, and do you hear it in these words?

The Gospel lesson Father Wells will read Sunday is Luke’s version of the beatitudes. Beware the tendency we all have to let the words roll over us. We know this stuff, right? Because we’ve all heard Matthew’s version of the Beatitudes, and we miss how Luke’s version is different. We may not catch, for example, that Jesus doesn’t talk in Luke about the “poor in spirit.” He simply talks about the poor.

The Greek word for the poor is “ptōchos,” with a hard “ch” like in “Bach.” But listen to what your mouth is doing with the “pt” sound in the first syllable. Does it sound like you’re spitting? Makes you think of the Paul Simon song “Blessed:” “Blessed are the sat upon, spat upon, ratted on.”

So what can we say about the poor, the hungry, and people who cry all the time? Well, they’re sort of losers. No, no “sort of” to it. They’re losers. But here’s Jesus saying it’s good to be a loser. He calls them BLESSED.

And then he levels his attention on you and me, at those who have enough to eat, those who have a warm dry place to sleep and clean clothes to put on Sunday morning after our hot shower. “Woe to you,” he says. Woe to you who are full now, who are laughing now. So what’s our lesson from this? Can we somehow identify as losers? Can we see Christ in the losers we meet? Can we BECOME losers for Jesus?

This week’s epistle lesson tickles our sense of who is a saint; the good news is that you probably qualify.

In Christ we have also obtained an inheritance, having been destined according to the purpose of him who accomplishes all things according to his counsel and will, so that we, who were the first to set our hope on Christ, might live for the praise of his glory. In him you also, when you had heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation, and had believed in him, were marked with the seal of the promised Holy Spirit; this is the pledge of our inheritance toward redemption as God’s own people, to the praise of his glory.

I have heard of your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love toward all the saints, and for this reason I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers. I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give you a spirit of wisdom and revelation as you come to know him, so that, with the eyes of your heart enlightened, you may know what is the hope to which he has called you, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe, according to the working of his great power.

God put this power to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead and seated him at his right hand in the heavenly places, far above all rule and authority and power and dominion, and above every name that is named, not only in this age but also in the age to come. And he has put all things under his feet and has made him the head over all things for the church, which is his body, the fullness of him who fills all in all.

The writer (relatively few scholars believe it’s actually Paul) celebrates the inheritance of every believer, the mark of the seal of the promised Holy Spirit. This gift flows through Christ, the ruler of the church. We finish with the glory of the church in the world. As Eugene Peterson says in The Message, “The church, you see, is not peripheral to the world; the world is peripheral to the church.”

The psalm for All Saints Sunday is Psalm 149, one of the celebrated “Final Five” psalms:

Refrain: Hallelujah! Sing to the LORD a new song! Hallelujah! Sing to the LORD a new song; * sing his praise in the congregation of the faithful. Let Israel rejoice in his Maker; * let the children of Zion be joyful in their King. Let them praise his Name in the dance; * let them sing praise to him with timbrel and harp. For the LORD takes pleasure in his people * and adorns the poor with victory. Let the faithful rejoice in triumph; * let them be joyful on their beds. Let the praises of God be in their throat * and a two-edged sword in their hand; To wreak vengeance on the nations * and punishment on the peoples; To bind their kings in chains * and their nobles with links of iron; To inflict on them the judgment decreed; * this is glory for all his faithful people. Hallelujah! Refrain: Hallelujah! Sing to the LORD a new song! If you want a sweet, embraceable God who just loves and loves, stop at 6a and Psalm 149 is the one for you. If you want a God who uses violence and chains and wreaks judgment, take up at verse 6b and this is your baby. Unfortunately, we Episcopalians don’t get to do either. We read the whole thing, and on Sunday that means Lavonne will take us back to our customary pattern of reading responsively by half-verse, beginning and ending with that gorgeous refrain, “Hallelujah, Sing to the Lord a new song!” Verse 3 is one of those scriptures often used to support liturgical dance, as well it should be. But let’s be clear that the dancers envisioned by this psalmist were less pretty teenaged girl in flowing gown and more sweaty dude in armor and boots, smelling a bit much of last night’s garlic mutton. So come, my friends. Praise the Lord! Praise a complicated God who keeps us guessing, who warms our hearts but challenges our minds! Praise the Lord!

Our Old Testament reading for this our week to celebrate All Saints Sunday is a real stretch, Daniel 7:1-3, 15-18.

In the first year of King Belshazzar of Babylon, Daniel had a dream and visions of his head as he lay in bed. Then he wrote down the dream: I, Daniel, saw in my vision by night the four winds of heaven stirring up the great sea, and four great beasts came up out of the sea, different from one another.

As for me, Daniel, my spirit was troubled within me, and the visions of my head terrified me. I approached one of the attendants to ask him the truth concerning all this. So he said that he would disclose to me the interpretation of the matter: “As for these four great beasts, four kings shall arise out of the earth. But the holy ones of the Most High shall receive the kingdom and possess the kingdom for ever—for ever and ever.”

If you’re wondering what this has to do with the dearly departed saints, know that you’re in good company.

What we can say with confidence is that Daniel shifts in chapter 7 from being the interpreter of others’ dreams to being the dreamer himself. As with most passages from the Revised Common Lectionary, it’s always interesting to go look at what’s NOT included, in this case detailed descriptions of the four beasts, and perhaps more importantly, the appearance of “one like a human being” who receives dominion, glory, and kingship. We know all this was terrifying to Daniel, as it would be to most of us.

We’ll see how Father Wells deals with this one. Perhaps he can be forgiven if he simply ignores it. Because, and in this we can all take comfort, there are some GREAT scriptures still to come this week.