Sermons from the Episcopal Church of the Redeemer

The little curb led me up to the giant front doors. They had huge iron handles that signified to me, strength. I reached for them. I was begging to be let in, but the doors of the church were locked. I tugged harder, but they wouldn't budge in complete defeat I collapsed to the ground feeling beneath me, what I felt inside that day, dust. Where are you, Jesus? Why aren’t you here for me? Why can't I get in there? Why is this door locked when I need you? Why this dividing wall between us?

I sat there in the dirt for quite some time, and I noticed things about the place that I hadn't before. An old bench that hid in some tall grass near that sign that posted the worship times. A swarm of bees had made a nest in a nearby Oak tree. And someone had left a little cross in the fresh concrete many years ago on the edge of the slab that was under my body.

I sat there alone in silence and looked around and my sister pulled in. I could see the look of relief on her face. There you are, it said. She didn't say anything though, just opened the door to her car and sat down beside me and took my hand in her hand. It's locked, I said, the church is locked. With clarity and wisdom, she looked at me and said, no, it's not, I'm right here.

A new door opened before me, in her words. That's the thing about doors. They can divide things, or they can bring things together. Doors mark a distinction, in and out, system and belonging, comfort and challenge, peace and violence, hostility and home, being broken apart and being knit back together... I want you to think of how we might remove the hinges from our hearts and tell to friend and stranger that all are welcome in our hearts in this place. In the kingdom of God.

I had no rug in the living room and I finally found one that I thought was beautiful and I justified it because I was thinking, I'll give this to my granddaughter when I die. You know, she'll love this rug, right? She'll probably put it in a garage sale, but anyway, that was my justification.

That rug was in my living room less than a week when my brother came to visit. It was a big deal, his coming to visit, because he hadn't been well. And he walked into my home, and he sat down in my living room, and he forgot that he had an open can of Diet Coke in his pants pocket, his back pants pocket. And you can imagine this Diet Coke pouring out all over my treasured little rug.

That was the first initiation that rug received. The second one was my dog Sweet Pea during one of her anxiety attacks. I could go on and on. Beautiful rug, beloved two-legged and four-legged creatures. You know, we have to lean towards the beloved creatures. We can be attached to stuff or having funds to purchase stuff, yet they are just possessions. Things that can disappear in a fire, they can be washed away in a flood, they can be decimated in a storm, they can be stolen by thieves and then stuff ultimately will be given away. It will belong to someone else. Or it will be put out in the garage sale, or maybe just directly to the trash.

If stuff, if our possessions are treated as our treasure. Then our hearts may feel constricted indeed. for where your treasure is there your heart will be. Moments confront us that challenge us to see things differently.

You've heard me talk about this before, I 100% do play the lottery and I 100% think that the lottery is a total disaster. And it's not healthy. It's not a moral system. And, I completely play it. And the whole time I'm thinking about all the good that I will do. There will be enough money left over for a little remodel of the house, but I've got a lot of plans to do good for the world, of course. But this time as I was mulling over the 480 million, that was unquestionably going to become my coming my way, one of the things that I was really thinking about is why do I do this to myself? Why do I care? And why do I play this? What is this? And I mean, obviously part of me is like, why wouldn't you, right? I mean, give it a shot. ...for myself, I think what is this thing? Why am I caring? And I realized, as I was thinking about all this money that I thought I could do such great things with, one of the things I was really realizing I wanted was this idea that overnight, just like that, a switch could be flipped, and I wouldn't have to worry.

I thought I wouldn't have to worry about anything when it comes to financial issues for my family, for me, for my brothers, for my parents, for my kids, for any of it, probably their grandkids and great grandkids. I'd have it. We'd be all set. And that is so attractive. Oh, my goodness. What an amazing possibility that I wouldn't have to worry anymore. Snap, one day, one thing happens and I'm fine. And I could say to my soul, soul all is well, relax, eat, drink, and be merry we're finally ok. And you all can laugh with me at this because you know what it's like, whether it's the lottery or not, you know what it's like to have that desire.

We were walking past one of the glorious churches in New York City and on impulse, I wanted to go in and offer a prayer for my friend's grandmother. So, we stopped, and I did, and I can still remember the dim lighting, the coolness of the space, and the comfort and kneeling in prayer. Very soon after that, we learned that something had gone terribly wrong and my friend's grandmother had died, died very suddenly and unexpectedly.

It was a total shock to everyone and there was deep grieving. And while my rational mind knew that none of this had any connection with my simple prayer. It was a very long time before I prayed again. Maybe you've encountered unexpected moments in your life that seemed to challenge your faith in new ways, challenge your sense of God's love, your worthiness, and your relationships. If not, perhaps you've seen someone else in this struggle. I didn't consciously think of prayer as being scary or anything, I just didn't think about it.

Years later, I was pregnant with my son and there were questions and concerns about the pregnancy. And I found myself lying in bed in the dark one night. Trying to stitch together, some humble prayer starting with, I don't know God if you're there, but wanting so desperately for my child to live. Prayer’s tumbling out in the dark and silence of night can sometimes overcome our daytime resistance. Maybe you found yourself in the midst of a sleepless night, found yourself unexpectedly in prayer.

Substitute Samaritan with another identity that gives us a better sense of how these words might have sounded to those who heard them in the earliest years. If we substitute that, we also have the chance to substitute who it is that's been injured. Is it a stranger? Is it someone who we'd never encountered before?

Or might we be the one who was injured and suffering? Would we care what the identity was of the one who came to help? No, I think we would just thank God that someone that stopped had cared. So, who is our neighbor? Who are we called to extend mercy to? To potentially receive mercy from? It has nothing to do with identifiers that separate us from one another.

It has to do with mercy, with kindness and compassion and love. These may not seem like big things, but they can change everything. And perhaps they are everything. When I think of love of neighbor and mercy and kindness, there are names and faces in this congregation that come immediately to mind. People who just always seem to be checking in checking the pulse of individuals, checking the pulse of this community. To look out for people who might have needs. To be in response to those needs, whether it's within this community or in the broader Cincinnati community.

In case it's been a little while, since you were in math class, remember that geometry is the study of shapes and forms. Some simple and some very complex, some flat and some multidimensional. And calculus on the other side is the study of the rate of change made complicated by instantaneous rates that lead to integral movements toward an infinite answer.

I wish someone would have told me a long, long time ago that math is actually just a lot like God. Maybe then I would have liked it a little bit better or understood it a little bit better. Maybe if you love math, you're thinking, now I understand God.

We observe God like math in many forms, many shapes from many angles while the world around us is constantly changing. And as Christians, we are constantly making instantaneous decisions about how to observe and perpetuate God's divine nature in the world. Our decisive actions say something true about her integral, whole self. Geometry, the study of shapes and calculus the study of change, are actually a lot like God. Algebra then is the human side of the equation, because algebra deals deeply in generalizations and assumptions about how it all adds up. That's why we usually start with algebra. that's why we usually start with prejudice and fear, safety, and security. We usually start with the less complicated side of God, just like we start with the least complicated side of math.

In the Bible in Daniel, Jobs, Zacharia, Chronicles, Isaiah, Proverbs, Psalms, all over the place, they talk about God as a refiner, purifying, cleansing, and making things new. But to be transformed, to change, you have to be willing to let go of your footprints to let them fade here, so you can make new ones there. Or maybe let go of the beautiful image in your mind of the footprints you're going to leave on some beautiful road, in order to let your feet sink a little deeper in your place.

Either way what you're doing is letting go of your expectations for your life to follow your call. And we know it's never easy. You're going to have to go through a little fire. So, when those would-be disciples from our story today, tell Jesus that they are in, that they are ready to follow, but just have one little thing, one little thing to take care of over here.

Essentially what they are saying is that that part of their life, is separate from their act of following Jesus.

The drowning of the pigs is not good news to everyone, as it turns out, it is certainly not good news to the swine herders, the farmers who owned these pigs, the people whose economic livelihood depended on these creatures of God that they have come to possess. This upheaval and subversion of the system is not welcomed by these and not welcomed by those who have benefited long from a system that was happy to keep the freed man in chains rather than look for a collective salvation...

What I didn't know when I was a little child that I'm glad I know now is that demons cannot live in the waters of baptism. And we, as God's people, have the blessing and the great responsibility to exercise them from our hearts and our souls, from our homes and our communities, from our nation and from our world.

What, I didn't know when I was a little child that I'm glad I know now, is that slavery is not that long ago, and not that far away. It is present in our labor market and our prison system, in our economy and in our schools, it is present in our wage gap and in our healthcare system. Oppression is a Legion, but we are a force to be reckoned with.

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All of a sudden, the disciples are speaking. All the disciples, by the way. Their first language is probably Hebrew or Aramaic, which is a dialect of Hebrew. And instead of speaking the Gospel in their own language, they're now speaking the language in whatever language, the people around them speak. The first thing the Holy Spirit does to make people church, is turn them outward and give them a language to speak love to others in whatever way they will understand.

Please notice that the Holy Spirit does not make it so everyone else in the room understands the disciples when they speak in their native language. It is historically culturally the custom of a lot of churches to try to make the world look more like us and speak more like us and learn our language.

But in the story we have today, the birth of the church happens when the people who love God are turned outward and learn how to speak other people's language. This is a super Supreme act of vulnerability, by the way, learning to speak someone else's language. Have you ever tried to learn another language?

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Every morning at my son's Montessori school in the Cincinnati public school district, they take two minutes to center themselves to begin a new day. A chance to embrace their school motto, peace, love, and PRM. Every child is given the opportunity to pray in their own way at school and no one is excluded from this time of daily reflection, I decided to stay with the teachers there in that place of prayer and together we begged God, “Please do not let this be their last day.”...

My seven-year-old son, and your seven-year-old son, and your seven-year-old grandson, and your seven-year-old niece, and your seven-year-old neighbor. They are currently being taught. They are learning from our society that if they want to be saved, that they need to turn off the lights, get low, barricade the doors, stay silent. And sacrifice themselves so that gun manufacturers can continue to make tons of money off of people's anxious fears of home invasion or worse, the pleasure at the sport of murder.

What must we do to be saved? What will shake us? What is our foundation? And will we believe on the Lord Jesus who came that we might have life and might have it more abundantly?...

What kind of Christians are we? Throughout Easter we've been focusing on these readings from the Book of Acts. We've been preaching from that space and we've been listening to these stories of the early church and the first believers and how they became the church.

And it's been a little bit uncomfortable for us, Episcopalians, because we're hearing stories of people going out and sharing their faith lives openly and actively with other people. And if there's any kind of Christians, we aren't, it's often those kinds of Christians. The kinds who are going out and making believers.

And I do get that, I'm one of us. I like to tease our people and myself even, but I get that. I get why we try to distance ourselves from that kind of evangelism. Because many of us have been raised up in a place where we were taught that a Christian's job is to believe exactly the right things and act exactly the right way so that we go to heaven when we die, instead of going to hell and burning eternally forever.

And therefore, when we see people who aren't part of the thing that we're a part of, we are taught to worry about them. They're not like us and that's a cause of concern for us, and for them. We're taught to hold people who believe things differently at a distance, to fear. And if we're charitable and loving in Christ's name, to work really hard to change their minds. We like to get people to believe what we believe and call that a conversion experience. This is what we're taught, not Episcopalians, Christians, like so many of us are taught to be like this.

This is a deeply unhealthy way of experiencing other people...

This sheet comes down. Peter sees all these animals that he's supposed to stay away from. And the voice from above from God says, Peter kill and eat. And Peter says, no, absolutely not. He thinks, you're testing me. I know this one. I don't get to eat those things.

Three times this happened. And three times Peter says, no, I know the rules. And God speaks from above and says ‘nothing that God has made clean is unclean.’ And again, we're not talking about God's scrubbing.

You have said, these things are not worthy of nourishment. They are not worthy of being presented as a sacrifice. Blessing is not in them, but I am telling you, there is blessing and nourishment and power here too. Don't lose sight of that. Don't miss what's right in front of you. That's easy enough for us.

As Christians and as Gentiles, we often take this reading simply to mean one or two things, perhaps. Now we get to eat bacon, cool, thanks God. But we have this issue as Christians, where we treat the dietary restrictions that are presented before us of God's people, we treat them as true as unthinkable.

We diminish the faithfulness of our Israelite ancestors and of people of contemporary society in our faith, in our lives. Now, many of our Jewish siblings and many siblings from other faiths across the world have very specific dietary restrictions...

...we now hear of another potential crisis and the overturning of protection for women's autonomy, and their health and reproductive decisions. There is a temptation for us to stand back because there are simply too many crises. There are too many things that seem to be falling apart and we may choose to stand back, particularly if we don't feel that we're going to be directly impacted by what's going on.

I hear that voice in myself sometimes. It's a voice to reassure me, it'll be okay, because I'm not being directly impacted. But immediately hearing that voice, I hear that other voice. That voice of Jesus reminding me that I am called to witness and serve, to love my neighbor as myself to strive for justice and peace and to respect the dignity of every human being. I hear that voice.

And regardless of our age, our gender, our orientation, our race or ethnicity, our politics, we are called to walk a path of love together. We are called to do that. I am certain, we have many different views, some passionately held about the most recent issue regarding women's reproductive rights. We can talk personal views and experiences, religious beliefs, beliefs of various traditions. We can talk about science and laws and even politics. In this beloved community we can discuss and respect differing views.

What is central for me is a person's autonomy in making well-informed, compassionate, and prayerful choices for their own body and their own life circumstance. I believe that any human being identifying however they do, has the right to have their autonomy regarding their bodies; that autonomy protected.

I don't have a great story where Jesus knocked me down and blinded me and then said, get your act together, DeVaul. That didn't happen. But this Sunday, this year, I'm out there, I'm watching those folks and I'm standing with some of you and we're ringing bells and we're cheering people on. And I see the truth.

It's not like, ‘oh, this is a good thing, or, oh, what a wonderful day for our city,’ although those things are true. I'm literally seeing Christ run by me over and over and over again, Christ himself. Wearing a little funny pig hat and a bib and running along or speed walking right in front of me. That's Christ.

And then I look around and I got a bunch of my friends here, ringing bells and yelling, happy things at people and, oh my gosh, I'm surrounded by Christ. Why haven't I seen it? Did I have eyes to see Christ all around me? And then you'll never believe what happened? I rang a bell and I was cheering. And guess what for just a moment, guess who I got to be? Christ.

I got to embody the truth of who God is in this world. Just like you did, and just like they are. And for a moment, all of what we think about what's good and what's bad. All this stuff melted away. And I was in the presence of holiness.

God, doesn't knock Saul off the horse in order to make him a better person. He doesn't do it to try to teach him a lesson. This isn't a fable. This is a story of transformation. Saul goes from seeing people as threats and obstacles to seeing people as the very embodiment of Christ in the world.

So many folks are feeling isolated, lonely, even despair. Many are finding that the comfort they once might have found in a faith tradition, no longer works for them in the complexity, and with which they understand life today. So many are feeling threatened by actions being taken to curtail their rights, their freedoms.

And so many are experiencing the devastation of aggression of violence, even war. Bearing witness to following Jesus and becoming beloved community is needed now desperately, and we are called. I find a helpful reference point for me in terms of this question of witness is our baptismal covenant and the vows we make.

Will you continue in the apostles teaching and fellowship and the breaking of bread and prayers? Will you persevere in resisting evil and repent? Will you proclaim by word and example the good news of God and Christ? Will you seek to serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself? Will you strive for justice and peace among all people respecting the dignity of every human being?

That's a beautiful ground from which we can begin to witness. And when we make those vows, we always say them, I will with God's help. I will with God's help because it is not easy, but we can with God’s help.

I'm a very cynical person. You don't know that. Cause I get up here and talk about love, which I believe in. But the power of love is something that has overcome me and has to fight daily with my cynicism. So for instance, you know, you'll meet people who have kids, or maybe they're a teacher that teaches and they go like, man, those kids teach me more than I'll ever teach them.

I'm like, well, that's not true. You taught them math. You’re way smarter. I get really cynical about this idea because I'm up here in my head thinking you have a set of information that you are imparting to these people. What I forget is how much we learn, how much we learned from people, not just sets of data, but what we learned from people by simply sharing life with them.

Other than the names of dinosaurs, my eight-year-old son has taught me nothing. Like I was, when I was in school, I have probably forgotten all the names of dinosaurs unless they were in the Jurassic Park movie, I still remember those. Except, he needs me to slow down sometimes and listen to him. I don't like to slow down; I want to go. He doesn't say, oh, father, I need you to slow down because you're moving at a pace that I can't handle, and I need you to work with me in a different way. That doesn't happen, but I love him. And so, I'm learning how to slow down and listen differently.

I'm learning because I'm willing to listen differently and listen to someone that I wasn't ready to learn from before. Who do we assume we know all about, and we don't need to learn from who are we not listening to? And I don't just mean listening to the words they have to say. Although that is part of it. I also mean who could be transforming our lives for love if only we’d let them. If the male disciples had just believed what the female disciples had said, their lives would have been transformed that much sooner.

What happened to Jesus is not far from us today. Innocent lives are lost in systems of domination and oppression again and again. Fear and mistrust breed, war and violence, and the impulse for domination and supremacy keep us separated from one another and from God.

The Passion of Jesus should not leave you today saying, oh, look at this terrible thing that happened thousands of years ago.

It should leave you searching for how and why humanity continues to walk this way today.

It should not leave you placing blame on them, the Jews who killed Jesus. It should find you searching for how you yourself participate in societies and structures that take the breath of life from the poor, the oppressed, the marginalized and the forsaken right now.

Palm Sunday has a way of allowing us to enter into the story, both as those who waved palms in joyous procession, along the way, and saying glory to God. And also, as those who shouted, crucify him, crucify him.

I am grateful year after year for this juxtaposition, because truly we are both. We today in many ways, simultaneously with our lives, honor God with songs of praise. And also vilify Christ who interrupts our systems of comfort and security.

In today's Gospel Mary's devotion to Jesus is seen and felt by all present.In the story, Judas’ devotion may be visible as well, but it is probably not a devotion of giving to the poor. It may be more to keeping the common purse and perhaps lining his own. So, how do we identify with this story? To what and whom are we devoted and how do we express that devotion? The word devotion just kept coming to me with this story. And I think it came to me even more so because I've witnessed so much devotion in recent weeks...

I was away in Florida with my family earlier this past week and witnessed again, my son Ryan's devotion to his dad. His dad lives in Chicago and he has significant physical and cognitive problems and he needs assistance at times throughout the day. My son lives in Utah, but he's practiced at keeping this communication. But we were all in Florida and this time his dad had gotten himself into a jam that he didn't know how to remedy...

So, of course, his first call is to his son and I witnessed Ryan by the pool in Florida, calmly and patiently walk him through possible options and try to help empower him as to how he might fix this himself. And from my side of overhearing the call, I could tell that he didn't feel able to do any of those things.

And so Ryan then very quickly shifted gears and made all the calls that were necessary to get the help that was needed in Chicago. In minutes, help with on the way. As I've shared before this devotion between father and son did not grow out of nothing, but out of years of calls and love expressed. The devotion, his father gave him so faithfully, has been returned with love and generosity beyond measure.

The Gospel today is drawing us back to one another and we know it, we know it. This is why our overwhelming sense, When we hear this story, our overwhelming feeling is of the magnificent love that runs towards us, even when we're not sure who we are and the beauty and the power of the story is that even though the sons don't know, they belong, the father never stops loving them.

Even when the two sons don't acknowledge each other, the father sees them both as beloved son. Even when both of them are completely incapable when neither of them are able to see each other or see their father or see themselves as in true and loving relationship, the father sees it and knows it and lives it and holds onto them when they can't hold onto him when they can't hold onto eachother.

This is the story of our God, the God who will not let go of us, the God who will not let us go, who will hold onto us and transform us and make us know our belonging and help us to see the power and the beauty of the belonging of all the people all around us. And if we have eyes to see it and ears to hear it, we will know our belongingness and we will allow ourselves to be transformed by God's love as we experience it in our hearts.