Category: Lexington

The Spiritual Discipline of Tithing

Occasionally, I am asked about tithing. Since we are entering the season when churches traditionally emphasize faithful stewardship, I thought it might be helpful to share a few thoughts on the subject here.

A “tithe” is 10% of something. Tithing has meant several things throughout history, including tribute, tax, and charitable contribution. Years ago, my wife and I came to understand the tithe as a spiritual discipline, by which we acknowledge that everything belongs to our Creator and our role is that of stewards. The discipline of tithing helps us maintain a healthy relation-ship with our possessions. As we see in the teachings of Jesus, if we are possessed by our possessions, we aren’t truly free and if possessions harm relationships with our neighbors, they undermine God’s vision of a world where people live in peace. As a priest, one of the most important things I can do for the spiritual health of those given into my care is to help them have a right relationship with possessions.

When we give the first 10% to God, we are reminded that everything we have, whether spent, saved, or given away, is a sacred trust from God. Each time we write a check to the Church for the tithe, we are reminded to be faithful stewards of the remaining 90%. We are also reminded that Jesus Christ doesn’t ask us for a small portion of our loyalty – he asks for 100%, "our selves, our souls and bodies."

Because we are unapologetically committed to the mission to which God is calling the Episcopal Church, that is where we bring God’s tithe. Other organizations have many different ways to solicit and raise funds to sustain them. The Church has us. Most secular organizations, governments, community chests, and businesses cannot contribute to overtly religious communities. We consider additional charitable giving to be an “offering.” God’s tithe and our offerings equal about 20% of our gross household income. By the standards of most of the world, the lifestyle sustained by the remaining 80% is luxurious.

Once we saw the difference this discipline could make in our lives and in Christ’s ongoing mission, we set out to work toward the goal of tithing. With God’s help, we modified our spending and saving patterns so we could step up each year toward a tithe. Then, we continued to take steps that would allow us to make offerings beyond the tithe.

I commend the discipline of tithing to you. Try it and discover for yourself how blessings flow in as treasures flow out. It will give new meaning to phrases found in the baptismal liturgy, such as placing our “whole trust in God’s grace and love.” It will change the way you understand our Lord’s summary of the Law, to love God with all our heart, soul, and mind and our neighbor as we love ourselves.

September 15, 2011
“To err is human; to forgive, divine.”

As we approach the observance of the tenth anniversary of the terrorist attack of September 11, 2001, I find myself continuing to struggle with how to apply Jesus’ teachings about forgiveness. It so happens that the anniversary falls on a Sunday and the appointed gospel reading for the day is The Parable of the Unforgiving Servant (Matthew 18:21-35).

This parable is illustrative of the fact that forgiveness is an essential aspect of the Christian experience. In fact, Twentieth Century theologian Reinhold Niebuhr once said, “forgiveness is the central issue of theology.” It begins in God’s love and is endorsed by it. Therefore, when any one of us forgives, it is done within the context of another forgiveness, which possesses immeasurable dimensions. Forgiveness plumbs the depths of our love and assays its quality and will to endure.

I believe the section of Matthew’s gospel in which this parable is set originally served as a sort of catechism for early Christians. Readers identify with Peter and his questions, then learn from the responses of Jesus. The Parable of the Unforgiving Servant is Jesus’ answer to Peter’s question regarding how many times we should forgive others. We are supposed to see ourselves as those who have been forgiven but are not very good at forgiveness.

Here's where my struggle with forgiveness has led me thus far.

Forgiveness is not natural for humans. It is not some innate, natural human emotion. Vengeance, retribution, and violence are natural for humans. As Alexander Pope said, “To err is human; to forgive, divine.” Why is that? Because, we have to work at it and we must have divine help to accomplish it.

The courage to forgive others begins in the humility that comes from the realization that we have been forgiven. If we want to learn what forgiveness means, we have to begin by accepting the forgiveness God offers. So, every Sunday the Church reminds us that we gather as those who have been forgiven so we can become souls who concentrate on learning to forgive others. There’s a reason why the Peace is exchanged after we have confessed our sins and received absolution.

To refuse to forgive is to block the forgiveness God offers to us. George Herbert once said, “He that cannot forgive others, breaks the bridge over which he himself must pass if he would ever reach heaven; for everyone has need to be forgiven.” To savor and nurture anger, resentment, thoughts of vengeance, is to turn away from the healing power of God in our lives and in the human family. To forgive is to open up spaces for God’s love to enter and accomplish what we could not accomplish on our own.

The parable shows that forgiveness is about conduct, not mathematics. Peter wants to know how many times a person is expected to forgive before one is no longer under any obligation to forgive. He wants Jesus to quantify forgiveness. By using an astronomical number, “seventy times seven,” Jesus is saying that forgiveness has no limits. It is extravagant, effusive, and without limit. We are challenged to take the limits off our love and to be committed to constantly moving beyond what we had thought was the most we were capable of doing.

Let me hasten to say that to forgive another who has truly wronged you does not mean that you must continue to put yourself in harm’s way again and again. We can still forgive those who hurt us through the grace of the One who brought forgiveness to us at such a great price, then step away. Forgiveness does not remove the responsibility or the consequences of wrongful or harmful actions. It may or may not bring about healing results in the lives of those who are forgiven, but it certainly allows for healing in our own lives.

What makes the forgiveness of God truly complete is the constant pilgrimage of forgiveness, which moves us beyond the self-imposed limits of love toward God who is both the source and the goal. As Thomas Merton said, “When we extend our hand to the enemy, God reaches out to both of us. For it is God first of all who extends our hand to the enemy” (The Hidden Ground of Love, 141).

May God help us learn what it means to love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.

September 8, 2011
Food for the Journey

Psychologists tell us that people tend to remember the beginning and end of things better than what happens in between. That is probably why we mark beginnings and endings with rituals and ceremonies. The rituals may be jubilant or somber, but they draw us together around significant moments and act as a kind of preservative in the days and years ahead.

Next week, Gay and I will be with friends in Nevada, to which they have retired. They wanted to mark this new beginning by offering prayers and supplications to God, so I will be officiating at the blessing of their new home. They want their faith to be the spiritual foundation for the new life they have begun in their new home and community.

When I meet with couples planning to be married, I ask them to imagine how it will be on their fiftieth wedding anniversary and make a list of the things they will need to be able to say about their life together at that time. They bring the list back to me and we review it. I explain to them that this list represents their life goals. Then, I ask them to keep this list in a safe place and review it on their anniversary or some other time every year so they can monitor their progress. The idea is for them to be reminded on a regular basis of the dreams and visions they shared at the beginning, so that they will not wander too far off course through the intervening years. It is a way of remembering and looking forward during the long journey.

Just before he sent the final plague upon the Egyptians, God instructed Moses and Aaron to tell the Israelites to prepare a ceremonial meal. It was the first Passover. It was the last meal they would eat before leaving their life of slavery. God also told them to make it an annual feast, to commemorate how God liberated them with a mighty hand. It marked the end of one way of life and the beginning of a new one. (Exodus 12:1-14)

From that day on, to participate in the ritual was to remember and become a part of the story it celebrated. In that story, God promised to set the slaves free. What were they to do in anticipation of that freedom? They were to gather together and eat a particular meal. In doing so they acknowledged and celebrated both who they were and who their God was. Their God is the One who lives in the midst of people, sets them free, and makes them his own. The Passover celebration thus bound the people together and to their God. It was, and still is, a covenant meal between God and God's own people.

It was at a Passover meal in Jerusalem that Jesus instituted the Holy Eucharist, the Lord's Supper. There with his disciples he related the old, old story of deliverance. But this time, he gave new meaning to things. The unleavened bread is his body broken, the cup of wine is his blood shed to set people free from slavery to sin and death. And he is the spotless Lamb of God whose sacrifice is sufficient to take away the sin of the world – for all people, for all time!

When we eat this bread and drink this cup, we celebrate and remember anew not only how God liberated his people from slavery in Egypt but also how God in Christ liberated us. Now, this kind of remembering is not simply recalling information about some things that happened to some people long ago. It is a kind of remembering in which we find ourselves in the story. The past reaches out and touches the present and transforms it. Like the ancient Israelites, we gather together as a family to eat a particular meal. And, in so doing, we acknowledge and celebrate both who we are and who God is. Our God is the one who dwells in our midst, sets people free and makes them his own! The Eucharistic feast, like the Passover celebration, binds us to one another and to our God.

Jesus loved to eat and drink. Meals were often the setting for important moments in his life and ministry. He told parables that involved meals. A meal is a time of sharing and sharing his divine life is central to his mission. When we gather around this table, he is our host. We come at his bidding. We bring our corporate story as a faith community, as well as our individual stories, and we join them with the story we pray in the Great Thanksgiving. When we rise, by the mysterious, living presence of Christ in the Sacrament, and the action of God's grace, we discover that story has transformed ours. It is a time of new beginnings. Our loins are girded, our sandals are on our feet, and our staff is in our hand. We have been liberated once again from slavery to those things that keep us from abundant living and set free to go on with the journey toward our own salvation.

It is good to know, especially during times of transition, that when we gather to eat this meal, we leave one way of life behind and begin a new one.

P.S. Here's a lovely hymn about new beginnings. You'll find the text beneath the video by clicking "Show More."

September 1, 2011
Stumbling Block or Stepping Stone?

From that time on, Jesus began to show his disciples that he must go to Jerusalem and undergo great suffering at the hands of the elders and chief priests and scribes, and be killed, and on the third day be raised. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, ‘God forbid it, Lord! This must never happen to you.’ But he turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling-block to me; for you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.’ (Matthew 16:21-23)

Jesus had wrestled with temptation and accepted his messianic mission. He knew who he was, understood his purpose, and had a clear vision of where his journey would lead him. When he tried to explain all of this to his disciples, Peter, the one who had been first to discover Jesus as Messiah, was shocked. He didn’t expect a Messiah who would redeem the world as the suffering servant. It was unthinkable for Peter that the cost would be so high. Perhaps Peter’s difficulty was the realization that if it cost Jesus so much, it would cost him also.

So, Peter tried to get Jesus to see that there could be another, less costly, and safer way to be God’s Messiah. The “Rock” upon which Jesus intended to build his Church, was now the “Stumbling Block” in Jesus’ journey to the cross. At no time in the gospels do we find Jesus rebuking any of his disciples so harshly. In that rebuke, Jesus made it abundantly clear that he knew who he was and what he was called to do. Not even Peter would be allowed to obstruct his divine purpose.

I remember so well how in 1965, The Rt. Reverend Horace Donegan, Bishop of New York, discovered that the early completion of the Cathedral Church of St. John the Divine was being jeopardized by resentment against some particular causes which he and the diocese had championed. He said, “I have learned that a very large gift toward the completion of this great cathedral was stricken out of one man’s will because of the diocese’s stand on civil rights. That happened to be in Manhattan. In other parts of the diocese, this cathedral, which I would like to see completed, has lost financial support because of the stands that I as a bishop of the Church of God have felt compelled to take.”

Then he spoke this noble word in which the real soul of the Church found utterance, “If in the providence of God it turns out to be that this unfinished condition is going to prevail for years, then I can only hope that its very unfinished quality will stand as a memorial to a diocese, which in the 20th Century, tried to do what it believed was right.”

In the ongoing redemptive work of Christ, are you providing support or getting in the way? This familiar bit of verse puts the question before us quite simply:

    Isn't it strange that princes and kings,
    and clowns that caper in sawdust rings,
    and common folk like you and me,
    are builders for eternity?

    To each is given a book of rules
    a block of stone and a bag of tools.
    For each must shape ere time has flown
    a stumbling block or a stepping stone.

Which are you – a stumbling block or stepping stone? I personally struggle with the question on a regular basis.

Jesus Christ has entrusted his redemptive work in the world today to the Baptized. The next time a priest asks you questions like,

Will you continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers?
Will you persevere in resisting evil, and, whenever you fall into sin, repent and return to the Lord?
Will you proclaim by word and example the Good News of God in Christ?
Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?
Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?

think about the rebuke of Peter and remember that the answer is, “I will, with God’s help.” Nobody ever said you’d have to do these things alone. In fact, if you don't need God's help, it may not be God's work. The One who refused to allow Peter to obstruct his journey to the cross and the resurrection continues to empower those who recognize that the cost of discipleship is high, but take up their crosses and follow him anyway.

August 25, 2011
Divine Ironies

Sunday’s reading from the Hebrew scriptures (Exodus 1:8-2:10) recounts the story of the birth and rescue of Moses. Consider some ironies that emerge from that story.

The very river in which Moses was to be drowned bore him to safety.

Whenever God is at work in our life, the instruments of our undoing can be transformed into the means of our salvation. That theme is repeated in the lives of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph. And look at what God did with the cross!

Moses realized later in his life that he had been spared (drawn out) for a purpose – to draw out others and lead them to freedom in the land God had promised to their ancestors.

Does God do this only for very special leaders? Certainly. However, each of us has survived the waters of baptism and been drawn out so that we can fulfill a divine purpose. We have been drawn out to be a kingdom of priests and God has a special role for each of us.

There is no pursuit in life more important than finding out what God wants to do with you!

Moses grew up in the court of the one who sought to kill him.

How ironic that the princess should bring a son of the Israelites whom the king had ordered killed right into the palace and name him “son.”

How ironic that Jesus should survive a similar slaughter shortly after his birth, by being taken into Egypt by his parents, and become the savior of the world, the Son of God.

How ironic that you and I manage to grow up under the very nose of so many forces that threaten to retard our growth or enslave us. It would be so easy to never grow up, like Peter Pan. By the grace of God, we can and do grow up in spite of external and internal forces that suggest that life would be better if we remained immature.

When we believe in God and the self God has given a home in our bodies, we just have to grow up, regardless of whatever forces conspire to keep us from growing up, because not to grow is to die.

The will of God was at work in Moses’ life in spite of the will of Pharaoh.

Things could have turned out differently for Moses. But God’s will for his life was stronger than Pharaoh’s or anybody’s.

The story of the Exodus makes it clear that Moses was the instrument of the divine will. It was God who made the escape of the Hebrews from their Egyptian captors possible.

On their journey, whenever Moses or the Hebrews attempted to assert their own wills over God’s will, things did not go well and their progress toward the Promised Land was impeded.

God’s will is strong for us too. We have to seek it daily over and above our own will. Like Jacob, we must struggle in prayer as we seek to blend our wills with God’s.

It is ironic how God delivered Moses, how Moses delivered God’s people, and how God is able to deliver us so that we may grow and blend our wills with the divine will in spite of all sorts of forces around us. That irony makes it all the more wonderful because it is a sign to us that God is still at work, doing more with us than we can do with ourselves.

August 18, 2011
Sermon at Church of the Good Shepherd ~ August 14, 2011

Listen to the Sermon for August 14, 2011 ~ Proper 15a

Read the Sermon for August 14, 2011 ~ Proper 15a

August 14, 2011
Love’s Second Name

Justice is something we get the hang of quite early in life. Children at play seem to have an innate sense of it as evidenced by their oft repeated cry, “That’s not fair!” But catching onto mercy is neither easy nor fashionable. We tend to think of the world in terms of them and us, dominance and vengeance, rather than mercy.

Mercy is resented by those who confuse it with pity. To become an object of pity is to be stripped of dignity and worth. But the mercy of God does not degrade, it transforms.

Mercy is not just a New Testament concept that entered the scene with Jesus. Actually, the word does not appear very often in the New Testament. It is found mostly in the Hebrew Scriptures. You’ll find the word mercy in the Psalms more than anywhere else. It means loving-kindness, God’s goodness and favor toward all people.

The Church has been entrusted with a great treasury of prayers. In that treasury is what is sometimes referred to as “The Jesus Prayer” – “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of the Living God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” The form we are most familiar with is the Kyrie Eleison, “Lord, have mercy upon us.” The prayer for mercy is always a cry to the heart of God.

But, as I said, people were crying out to the heart of God long before the coming of Jesus Christ, who is God’s incarnate response to the prayer for mercy. They seemed to understand God’s mercy as all-inclusive and universal. For example, consider the words of the Psalmist, “May God be merciful to us and bless us, show us the light of his countenance and come to us. Let your ways be known upon earth, your saving health among all nations” (Psalm 67:1,2).

So, when you and I pray for God’s mercy, we are joining our voices with God’s people of all ages and stations in a prayer that has universal dimensions.

To pray for mercy is to pray for love, to ask God to provide for us what God knows we need. That is especially true in those times when we don’t know what we need.

In Matthew’s story of Jesus’ enounter with the Cannanite woman (Matthew 15:21-28), it is clear that the woman was asking for Jesus to love her daughter back to health. She had no idea what to do and nowhere else to turn.

Pope John Paul II beautifully expressed this understanding of mercy in his 1981 encyclicle, Dives in Misericordia (Rich in Mercy), where he said, “True mercy is love’s second name.”

God's nature is Love. So, mercy is an expression of the nature of God. It is not dependent upon human initiative or activities but solely upon the divine desire to express Love for God’s human childen. It is the universal Love from which no force in creation can possibly separate us – not even our hatred and judgment of one another, or our own unworthiness.

Since mercy is an expression of God, the mercy shown by us to others would be an expression of the Spirit of God within us. It is still the showing of kindness or favor without regard to the merit of those to whom it is given. If mercy were deserved, it wouldn’t be mercy. If we withhold mercy from another because the other doesn’t deserve it, we have just destroyed mercy, judged the other, and, in effect, claimed that we have earned the mercies we have received. Such conceit and spiritual pride nailed Jesus to the cross.

One of the classic soliloquies of literature is that of Portia in Shakespere’s Merchant of Venice. Shylock claims that the pound of flesh he wants from Antonio is merely the letter of his bond, simple justice. Secretly, his motive is vengeance. In her speech, Portia adds the deeper dimension, that mercy is the seasoning of justice. “The quality of mercy is not strain’d. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven…Though justice be thy plea, consider this, that in the course of justice none of us should see salvation. We do pray for mercy. And that same prayer doth teach us all to render the deeds of mercy” (Act IV, The Merchant of Venice).

So, let us all strive to be merciful, to let the God who has been merciful to us express the very same mercy to others through us. It is the best way to show our gratitude and it is the surest way to open ourselves up to receive even more of God’s mercy. For rendering mercy requires humility and obedience on our part.

Where has God's mercy touched your life and the lives of those dear to you? Where are the boundaries of mercy beyond which you need to move in order to become a greater instrument of God's mercy to others?

What does the Lord require of us? “To love kindness, to show mercy, and to walk humbly with our God” (Micah 6:8).

August 11, 2011
“Behold, this dreamer cometh.”

Over thirty years ago, a friend gave me a framed charcoal drawing that has haunted me almost daily ever since. The drawing is that of a man who appears to be looking right past you toward something in the distance. Whatever he is looking at seems to have captivated him. Beneath the drawing are these words from the Book of Genesis: “Behold, this dreamer cometh” (Genesis 37:19).

These words were spoken of Joseph, one of the twelve sons of the patriarch Jacob/Israel, as he approached his brothers in the pasture one day. The brothers said this because of two dreams Joseph had shared with them. In the dream, the twelve of them were out in the field harvesting wheat and binding it into sheaves. Suddenly, his sheaf rose up and the others bowed down to it. In the other dream, the sun, moon, and eleven stars were bowing down to him. Not surprisingly, they were offended by the implication that Joseph would reign over them. They threw him in a pit, sold him into slavery, and put goat’s blood on his his beautiful multi-colored robe ("amazing technicolor dream coat"), and took it home as evidence that he had been devoured by a wild beast. (Genesis 37:1-4, 12-28)

In time, we see that all of them misinterpreted the dream’s meaning. The bowing was actually in gratitude to Joseph for actions that spare his family from famine in spite of what they had done to him – an act of mercy and grace, an experience of salvation, a story of providence that has been retold for a thousand generations.

Our lectionary gives only two Sundays to the story of Joseph, son of Jacob/Israel. In the Genesis account, the story is spread over twelve chapters (Genesis 37-49). It is the story of God’s mighty acts demonstrating how God preserved the family of Jacob/Israel and explaining how they came to find themselves in Egypt where later on they would become slaves. I hope you will take time to read the entire epic story.

There are several parallels with the story of Jesus in the story of Joseph that we might notice if we read it carefully. Both had a unique status “sonship” status. Their betrayers had the same name. They were put in a hole from which they emerged to become saviors. Being a dreamer may mean becoming a savior of others. But to accomplish that feat, one most likely will have to experience death, exile in a strange land and culture, and be far more generous, merciful, and forgiving than can be imagined.

That’s because God’s plans are not our plans and God’s ways are not our ways. Trusting God’s plans and ways leads us into new territories. Things happen along the way that we don’t like and we have to continue to live trusting in God to get us through to where God wants us to be. And when we look back upon the journey, we may be able to say with Joseph that what others meant for harm, God meant for good (Genesis 50:20).

The world described in the Bible’s first book is one in which characters were understood to walk and converse with God and who received dreams from God that shaped their lives and resulted in the salvation of others. God-given dreams take time to mature in us and for their full meaning to become clear.

God still gives dreams and the world needs dreamers who are receptive to them. So, ask God to give you dreams. But be aware that dreams have power in our lives and decisions. Understand that others may not like your dreams, but pursue them anyway, trusting in God and attempting to be patient with yourself and with those around you.

August 4, 2011
Sermon at Church of the Good Shepherd ~ July 31, 2011

Listen to the Sermon for July 31, 2011 ~ Proper 13A

Read the Sermon for July 31, 2011 ~ Proper 13A

July 31, 2011
Sometimes it’s the little things…

Gay and I were taking our morning walk when I became conscious of a very familiar mid-summer sound, that of cicadas. When we returned from our walk, one of the little creatures was waiting for us on a brick cornice beside the front door. The cicadas certainly had captured my attention!

Like many of you, I grew up hearing the sound of cicadas in the trees of my yard. Perhaps it is because I became accustomed to that sound at an early age, but I find it both familiar and comforting. However, this is not the case with some people.

An American pastor was traveling to England on an ocean liner a few years after the Second World War. He and an English-man struck up a conversation. The pastor learned that the Englishman had lived in London during the war and experienced the terror of Nazi air raids. After the war, he moved to Missouri but was now returning home. He liked living in America but was returning to England because the sound of cicadas was driving him mad. Here was a man who had lived through the horrors of war, air raid sirens, bomb shelters, children running for their lives, and exploding bombs in London, but he was unable to live with the sound of a bug.

Sometimes it’s the little things that get to us, isn’t it? We often find strength to rise above the big things – a major illness, the death of a loved one, financial woes, loss of a job. But some little things try our patience – a shoelace that won’t stay tied, some grammatical error, a musical selection, a splinter in a finger, someone else’s annoying habit.

Jesus reminds us to pay attention to the little things – a coin, a pearl, a weed, a widow, an orphan, a hurt. If we are alert and receptive, we may recognize the hand of God at work in the unexpected places and experiences, even the ones that annoy us. God's reign also extends to those places.

The writer of Proverbs also gives us a word of wisdom in dealing with small things:

Four things on earth are small, yet they are exceedingly wise: the ants are a people without strength, yet they provide their food in the summer; the badgers are a people without power, yet they make their homes in the rocks; the locusts have no king, yet all of them march in rank; the lizard can be grasped in the hand, yet it is found in kings’ palaces. (Proverbs 30:24-28)

May God give us grace to remain spiritually grounded and alert to the divine presence, especially when some little thing has claimed our attention!

P.S. – Here's a fascinating video about the life cycle of the 17 year cicada. I've never seen them in such numbers. The Englishman probably did and that's what got to him. Don't watch it if you are seriously bothered by bugs.

July 28, 2011