Category: Theological e-piphanies

Reflections on Matthew 10:34-39

Last Sunday’s gospel contained some disturbing words: “I have not come to bring peace, but a sword.” The Prince of Peace, Jesus, said that, according to St. Matthew. As if that weren't enough, he went on to say, “For I have come to set a man against his father, and a daughter against her mother, and a daughter-in-law against her mother-in-law; and one's foes will be members of one's own household.” What kind of family values are these?

Maybe the next two sentences provide the explanation: “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever loves son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and whoever does not take up the cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.” Living in a relationship with Jesus, being his follower, continuing his message and his work, is not going to be easy. It will cause people to reject you and then you'll have to make some difficult, perhaps painful, choices.

I once knew a woman named Julie. Julie was born in China and reared in a very strict Chinese family. When she became an adult, Julie heard the Gospel and the call to be a disciple of Jesus Christ. Her family was not pleased. In fact, they told her that she could no longer be a member of the family if she remained a Christian. Julie faced a very painful choice. Not to be a member of a family would make her a nobody. She would have no place to live, no name, and no respect. It would be as if she were dead – like losing her life.

Julie left her family and left China. She lost that life. She came to the United States where she found a family among fellow Christians. She found life.

For Julie, the words of Jesus made perfect sense. Few of us will ever have to pay such a price, but nevertheless we should pay attention to the disclaimer Jesus put right there on the package for all to read: “Beware! Following Jesus can be hazardous!”

Then what's the payoff? Why would anybody risk everything to follow Jesus? What's in it for me? Jesus called it “eternal life,” “the kingdom of God,” “the kingdom of heaven,” “abundant life.” I sometimes call it “life beyond ego.”

The ego derives identity, worth, meaning, and power from surroundings. Family, social ties, possessions, ideologies, approval, and many other outward reinforcements give life to the ego. But the ego is not the true person. Take away those ego-inflating things and the ego panics.

The true human being finds identity, worth, meaning, and power in relationship to God. That “life beyond ego” in turn informs and assigns meaning to everything else. It is as if we begin to look at creation through the eyes of the Creator and discover a new realm of wonder, love, and praise. It is a realm of life that is not dependent upon approval of family, social status, political influence, the number of possessions, or anything other than God.

Our God-given identity, declared in Baptism, is the one thing that nobody can ever take away from us. But we are passive recipients of that identity, aren't we? We are told that Baptism is a gift, not earned or deserved. The inestimable price of that identity has been paid by Jesus Christ. Yet, it is one thing to know that and another thing to live like we actually believe it. That's where Jesus' disclaimer comes in. The world around us, filled with ego-inflating values and things, won't understand and may withdraw its approval if we act like we believe true life, abundant life, eternal life, is not dependent upon it. “Those who find their life (ego) will lose it, and those who lose their life (ego) for my sake will find it (eternal life).”

Remember the rich man who came to Jesus asking what he had to do to inherit eternal life? “Jesus, looking at him, loved him and said, you lack one thing; go, sell what you own, and give the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then, come, follow me” (Mk. 10:21-22).

The man was shocked when he heard what Jesus said. He went away grieving because, the text says, “he had many possessions.”

But, even though Jesus’ words grieved the rich man, the text also says that Jesus said what he did out of love. He loved him enough to tell him the truth! He told him that while he was rich in the world's terms and in terms of the ego, he lacked treasure in heaven. The way to get his ego out of the way of eternal life was to be liberated from those things that inflated his ego. The man was not truly free. He was possessed by his possessions. Jesus wanted to liberate him for a life that is not limited by possessions.

So, out of love for us, Jesus tells us the truth. He warns us that following him and living the life he promises will cost us in terms of whatever gives our ego its sense of identity and security. I wonder what would happen if a dozen or so of us actually lived like we believe him. Let's throw caution to the wind and find out!

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

June 25, 2020
When Something Really Matters, We Discipline Ourselves
Public health experts have asked us to protect one another from the Coronavirus by wearing a face mask when we are out in public. Some of our fellow citizens see this as an example of some enemy trying to take away our civil liberties. They are up in arms about it. Literally. Although the data says that 84% of the population are willing to wear masks, all the sound and fury makes it appear that is the other way around.

This is an opportunity to take notice of and commend the 84% who are willing to wear masks. It is evidence that when something really matters, most of us will discipline ourselves to take care of it. For example:
- In relationships that matter, we make time for others, stay in touch, remember birthdays, give gifts.
- In work that matters, we arrive on time, do our best, take pride in the product or service, maintain loyalty.
- In regard to the environment, we conserve natural resources, refrain from polluting, use recycled materials.
- In regard to family, we show up for meals, we contribute, we encourage each other, we protect, we provide, we help each other grow physically, spiritually, and intellectually.
- In athletic competition, we wear team logos and apparel, attend games, tune in for broadcasts, cheer without restraint, and, if we're on the team, we show up for practice, train, and do our part for the team.
- In regard to our health, we maintain an exercise routine, get plenty of rest, avoid foods and other substances that are harmful, have regular checkups.
Why are we willing to discipline ourselves? Because these things matter and we are human beings. Humans have this amazing ability to take care of what's important. Christians call it "stewardship." We believe we were given this ability by our Creator in the very beginning.

It is often easy to discipline ourselves. But sometimes it is difficult. When we experience the difficulty, it is an opportunity to fully engage the gift of stewardship that other creatures do not have. Other creatures are limited mostly by instinct and conditioning. Humans are not. Humans have the ability to create something new, to act with purpose, to agree or disagree, to decide how to respond, to have complex two-way communication with each other and with the Creator. To be "only human" is to be the crowning glory of God's creation! To be "only human" is to be a member of the only race that has the vocation and privilege of stewardship.

I officiated at the funeral of a gentleman at a church I was serving as an interim. He was a top-flight accountant, churchman, family man, and community leader throughout his long life. On the way home from the cemetery, his family shared a photocopy of a card they found in his wallet. The card contained this prayer:

O Heavenly Father, who by Thy Son Jesus Christ hast taught us that all our possessions are a trust from Thee: Help me to be a faithful steward of my time, my talents, and my wealth, and gladly consecrate to Thy service all that Thou hast given me; and may I have grace to give myself to Thee. Through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

By this prayer, this man disciplined himself to be not just a steward, but a faithful one.

Let us take inventory of all that has been entrusted to us, especially those things that matter most. Then, let us ask God to help us be disciplined in how generously and faithfully we take care of this sacred trust. When it comes to the precautions we have been asked to take during this pandemic, my discipline protects you and your discipline protects me. It's a way to love one another and we all agree that love for one another really matters.

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas
May 28, 2020
Four Practices for Covidtide

The word “ecclesiastical” refers to the Church. It is derived from the Greek word ekklesia (ἐκκλησία). Ekklesia, which is translated Church, occurs 114 times in the New Testament. There seems to be strong consensus that its original secular meaning was a gathering of citizens called out by the herald from their homes into some public place; an assembly.

The Church, therefore, is a public gathering of Christ’s followers. For me, that is the hardest thing to reconcile during this time when we are counseled to stay at home, apart from one another. While I can’t quite solve the theological problem, I have discerned four practices that we as Christians can do for each other and the world at our doorsteps during this season I'm calling Covidtide. I offer them for your consideration.

We can stop thinking everything will soon be back to normal.

This pandemic is far from over. The number of new cases nationally continues to rise. People continue to die because of the virus. The search for and production of a treatment will take months. It may take more than a year to develop a vaccine. Those who are working in laboratories and hospitals are moving as fast as they can and are working incredible hours. My worrying and complaining is not going to help them. I can use my emotional and spiritual energies in better ways.

Even when we take a long view of how this will play out, we hear ourselves and others speak of a “new normal.” I heard a lot of that in 2008 after Hurricane Ike slammed into Galveston Island. What we discovered was that some things were permanently changed. What emerged as the months dragged on was not a new normal but a new reality.

After this pandemic has passed, what kind of persons do we want to be as we live into the new reality we are bound to experience? How can we look to the uncertain future with hope and purpose? What can we contribute to the new reality? What kind of church are we becoming? How will the lessons we learn in this crisis impact the mission to which God calls us?

“And the one who was seated on the throne said, ‘See, I am making all things new’” (Revelation 21:5).

We can plan how to continue.

“Everyone wants to know when this will end,” said Devi Sridhar, a public-health expert at the University of Edinburgh. “That’s not the right question. The right question is: How do we continue?" That just about sums up the kind of work we need to be doing right now.

At St. Martin’s, we are engaging in that work. We have recruited a diverse group of people within the parish to help us develop a plan that will define how to continue. Yesterday evening, St. Martin’s Regathering Team had its first video conference. Fourteen of us reviewed the science, the philosophy, the morality, and the theology of how we ought to proceed. We discussed some extremely helpful work that has been shared by the Episcopal Diocese of Texas describing a phase approach that we think we can adapt for our use. We’ll meet again next week. Hopefully, in a couple of weeks, we'll be ready to take the plan to the Vestry and then to the parish. In each phase, church protocols will be determined by health characteristics that apply to our context. We will decide what the health characteristics will be, based on the best scientific and public health guidelines.

We plan to continue! So, understanding how we continue is paramount.

We can view our precautions as something we do for the sake of others.

Charles Kurkul, a physician who is a member of our St. Martin’s Regathering Team, was asked about how effective precautions such as masks and distancing are. He responded by saying, “Seat belts help save lives. So do brakes. Both are more effective when we use them together.”

We expect that regathering will happen in phases and that numbers of people following precautions will start small and gradually increase as long as the health characteristics are met. Practicing wearing masks and physical distancing while we are apart will make it easier and safer when we gather again.

When I’ve encountered people complaining about wearing masks and practicing physical distancing, my response has been, “My precautions protect you. Your precautions protect me.” That’s another way of saying, “Love your neighbor as yourself” (Matthew 22:39). It’s also a way of loving God. “Those who say, ‘I love God’, and hate their brothers or sisters, are liars; for those who do not love a brother or sister whom they have seen, cannot love God whom they have not seen” (I John 4:20). Love for God and love for our neighbor are defining characteristics of the Christian community and each of its members.

We can uphold one another.

Paula Jefferson shared this reflection by Brother Curtis Almquist of the Society of Saint John the Evangelist: “We cannot do it alone. This isn’t private religion. We regularly need to be with other followers of Jesus with whom to pray and praise and worship, to listen and speak, and to sit at table and eat.”

We long for the time when we are able to gather around the Table at the Eucharistic Banquet. For now, let us uphold one another in ways that are appropriate. Pray for one another daily. Call, send an email or text message, have a video visit, tune in to our online worship services and virtual coffee hour, tell your story and listen to the stories of your sisters and brothers in Christ. There also have been and will be some safe opportunities for outreach to those in need.

We, who are all in this together during Covidtide, were all together before it started. Limiting contact does not mean limiting care. Let’s care for one another as we continue into the future God will set before us. The Holy Spirit is already preparing the way!

I close with this beautiful prayer for the Church.

O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world see and know that things which were cast down are being raised up, and things which had grown old are being made new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

– The Book of Common Prayer

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

May 7, 2020
Not When But How

Earlier this week, I was involved in a conversation with clergy colleagues about our current predicament during the COVID-19 Pandemic. Most of us have been asked when will we return to gathering physically for worship in our churches? We’ve also been asked when will we return to normal. A wise person reminded us that the important question is not “when” but “how.” Each worshiping community is set in its own unique context, has its own challenges, and must sort through its own resources to determine how we will move through this time into a brighter future.

The Wardens and I are working on the appointment of a “reentry team” to help us formulate a plan. As we do that, we are mindful that whenever we emerge on the other side of this crisis some things will be different. There will be changes. We recognize that everyone has some degree of difficulty with change, regardless of how beneficial or unavoidable it may be. At the same time, we know that human beings are endowed by our Creator with a remarkable capacity for change. In fact, the pages of sacred scripture are filled with examples of how the exercise of that capacity has impacted the story of God’s people. Also, in the New Testament, change is central to the message of Jesus Christ. “Now after John was arrested, Jesus came into Galilee, preaching the gospel of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent, and believe in the gospel’” (Mark 1:14, 15). The Greek imperative metanoiete, which we translate “repent”, is a call to change one’s life.

Some biblical stories are about those who were able to make the changes necessary to be faithful to God, such as Abraham, Moses, David, and the Holy Apostles. Other stories tell us about those who were unable to make such changes, such as the people who were destroyed by the Great Flood, the generation of Hebrews who had been slaves in Egypt, several generations of Israelites whose apostasy resulted in defeat and captivity, the rich young man who came to Jesus, and, of course, Judas Iscariot.

There’s good change and there’s bad change and, quite often, there’s just change. Not all change is equal. But life, as God gives it, is one change after another. The struggle with change is bound up with the struggle with faith in God. Those who thrive are those who adopt a hopeful attitude toward our God-given potential, draw upon the uniquely human capacity for adaptation, and bring about purposeful refreshment, recreation, and renewal among the communities where they live and worship.

Simply put, our faith provides us with insight into how to draw upon that capacity for creative living and the advancement of God's redemptive purposes. People of faith have lived through crises and catastrophes before and this time will not be the last time. But this is our time! We want to be faithful stewards of that time. How we live use this time and how we journey through this transition as a community of faith is ours to discern, with God’s help.

One of my favorite prayers from the Book of Common Prayer came to mind as I was thinking about the relationship between change and faith. When I turned to it, I realized that it is a prayer that is primarily used in liturgies for times of significant transition in the Church’s life and liturgical cycle – such as Ordinations, the Celebration of a New Ministry, Good Friday, and the Great Vigil of Easter. It is a wonderful prayer for any time in the life of the Church, but especially when we are asked to make some sort of change as we progress in the journey of faith. I commend it to you today:

O God of unchangeable power and eternal light: Look
favorably on your whole Church, that wonderful and sacred
mystery; by the effectual working of your providence, carry
out in tranquility the plan of salvation; let the whole world
see and know that things which were cast down are being
raised up, and things which had grown old are being made
new, and that all things are being brought to their perfection
by him through whom all things were made, your Son Jesus
Christ our Lord; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity
of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.

Blessings to you and yours,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

P.S. Here's a hymn that explores the world of change God has made.

April 22, 2020
What’s All That Doubt About?

The Reverend Ken Kesselus, a colleague in the Diocese of Texas, tells the following story:

Once when a certain preacher launched into a children’s sermon, she was confronted by a visiting child, an eight-year-old friend of a regular member. The boy was new to this church, but was a regular attendee at another congregation that did not have children’s sermons. Nevertheless, the visitor tried his best to follow the line of the preacher’s effort to connect with the children. Attempting to hook the children with something familiar before making her point, the priest asked the children to identify what she would describe. “What is fuzzy and has a long tail?” No response. “What has big teeth and climbs in trees?” Still no response. After she asked, “What jumps around a lot and gathers nuts and hides them?” the visiting boy could stand the silence no longer. He blurted out, “Look, lady, I know the answer is supposed to be ‘Jesus,’ but it sure sounds like a squirrel to me.”

Human beings usually want to give the “right” answer, the answer others expect. The eight-year-old boy had more courage than most of us might have had. He acknowledged what he thought others might want him to say, but he found a way to express his doubt.

Each year on the Second Sunday of Easter, we read the gospel account of St. Thomas the Apostle in which he expresses his own doubt about reports of the Resurrection of Jesus (John 20:19-31). He had not been in the company of the other Apostles when Jesus appeared to them that first Easter. When the others told him they had seen the Risen Savior, he couldn’t believe it. He may have wanted to “go along in order to get along” with the others, but he was compelled to express his doubt. He might have said, “I know the answer is supposed to be that I believe you saw Jesus, but it sure sounds like a ghost to me.”

A week later, Thomas had the opportunity to see for himself and confirm in his own experience that the Risen Christ was not a ghost. But for a period of time, he was skeptical. His questioning and doubting must have been as hard for him as it was for the little boy trying to understand the illustration about the squirrel. Because we too struggle with what may seem clear to others and with accepted norms, we can identify with Thomas and the little boy.

I am grateful to be a part of a Church where it is safe for people to express their doubts and ask their questions and challenge accepted norms. It is a Church where we don’t have to mindlessly accept what seems to be the accepted answer or point of view. It is a Church where it is okay to be doubtful, confused, and skeptical. It is a Church where we can remain in the company of others as we struggle with matters of doubt and faith. It is a Church where from childhood we are encouraged to ask questions and to wonder as we journey toward faith and as we seek the truth.

The example of Thomas’ honesty and forthrightness fosters hope in us and empowers us in our seasons of doubt. We need that kind of faith community as we wonder where God fits in with harsh and frightening realities of life and death. We need a faith community where we can be encountered by the Risen Christ who can lead us to the truth, just as he led Thomas. In such a community, we can work through our uncertainties and emerge on the other side with an even stronger faith, just as Thomas did.

The story of Thomas affirms that doubt can give way to faith, just as death is overcome by life. It assures us that the God we worship can handle our doubts and fears. It tells us that honesty is necessary in our relationship with God and God’s own people in times of uncertainty as well as in times of confidence.

The Apostles were blessed because they saw the Risen Christ and believed. Their subsequent ministry was to nurture faith among others who had not seen. Jesus said to Thomas, “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.” The ongoing work of this Church is to continue the ministry of the Apostles and foster the even greater blessing that comes from walking by faith. And for every generation of Christians since the first one, if we are honest about it, we have to admit that faith in Jesus Christ requires at least some struggle with doubt.

That’s really what Easter is all about. We are Easter People, traveling together on a marvelous journey toward those faith-filled moments when we discover the Risen One at work in our lives and in our world – moments so profound that we can only exclaim with Thomas, “My Lord and my God.”

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

P.S. Here's an old hymn based on this gospel passage and sung to a new tune by Marty Haugen.

April 16, 2020
A New Commandment

Today is Maundy Thursday among Western Christians. It is the day we recall the experience of Jesus Christ with his Apostles in the Upper Room on the evening before his death. Because they were gathered there to celebrate the Passover Seder together, we mainly associate the day with the institution of the Holy Eucharist.

But the name for this day is derived from something else that happened in that Upper Room. The English word Maundy in the name for this day of Holy Week is derived from the Latin word mandatum, the first word of the phrase Mandatum novum do vobis ut diligatis invicem sicut dilexi vos ("I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another."), the statement by Jesus recorded in the Gospel of John 13:34 by which Jesus explained the significance of his action of washing the feet of the Apostles.

What kind of love has to be commanded? Obviously, the kind of love Jesus expects us to show for one another, which is a reflection of the kind of love Jesus shows for us. We sometimes call it "Love Divine" because it is the kind of love that is natural for God. It is not so natural for humans, so we have to be made conscious of the importance of it. We have to be commanded.

I once heard a sermon in which the preacher, in speaking about the Great Commandment, referred to Jesus as "the Commander." It is intriguing to think of Jesus Christ as "the Commander."

An analogy formed in my mind from my experience sailing on Elissa, the official Tall Ship of Texas. Elissa is a three-masted, iron-hulled sailing ship built in 1877 in Aberdeen, Scotland by Alexander Hall & Company. She carries nineteen sails covering over one-quarter of an acre in surface area. Her home port is Galveston, Texas and from there she sails from time to time during the year, usually on day sails, with a crew of dedicated and sturdy volunteers.

Originally, her crew consisted of about five or six. These days, the ship's crew is made up of about twenty-five. Twenty-four crew members sail her and one crew member is the cook. The Captain of the ship is usually brought in from some other part of the country to command the crew. He stands above the deck in a place where he can see where the ship is headed, where the crew members are deployed, and the position of all the sails. From that vantage point, he shouts commands such as "on the main," "on the fore," "batten down the hatches," and "come about." After the command is given, the crew members responsible for carrying it out shout it back to the commander, indicating that they not only heard the command but are carrying it out. This amazing litany of command and response onboard a massive sailing vessel makes it possible for the ship to sail on course and safely reach her destination.

Jesus Christ, our Commander, gives the command to love one another just as he has loved us. The response he awaits is for us not only to let him know we have heard the command, but to carry it out. "If you know these things," he promises, "you are blessed if you do them" (John 13:17).

Although it is a very long way from the image of Jesus bending down to wash the feet of his crew to the image of a naval commander shouting instructions to his, I believe there are many similarities when it comes to fulfilling a mission. Jesus issued the Great Commandment with a clear vision from a unique vantage point. The cooperation and welfare of his crew on their journey and safe arrival at a particular destination were his primary concerns. His own obedience to the mission was an inspiration to those from he sought obedience. Teamwork, cooperation, and oneness are necessary to complete the mission of a sailing vessel as well as the mission of Jesus Christ. His Great Commandment is still essential in carrying out his Great Commission.

If we want the world to believe in our Savior, we have to learn to fulfill his command. The way his love is lived out among his followers in word and action is our most authentic and believable witness. If doing for one another what he has done for us were so simple, he would never have put it into the form of a command.

Now that we know these things…

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

April 9, 2020
Holy Week: A Time to Remember Who and Whose We Are

In Baptism, we are incorporated into the Paschal Mystery. That is, we are incorporated into the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ. His life is our life. His death is our death. His resurrection is our resurrection. It is for this reason that Christians observe Holy Week every year. It is a commemoration intended to put us in touch with that life which the world can neither give nor take away. It is a time to look at the Paschal Mystery and to recover our true identity, our authentic self, in him.

Five hundred years before Jesus rode into Jerusalem, Zechariah prophesied that the Messiah would be a king. Since the time of the Exile, no Jewish ruler had borne the title of king. “Look, your king is coming to you. Rejoice, rejoice, people of Zion” (Zech. 9:9). The time was just right and the people were happy on that first Palm Sunday to acknowledge it.

They wished to crown him their king. In their enthusiasm, they missed the paradox. They saw the glory but overlooked the shadow. But Jesus was conscious of both.

He knew who he was, so the acclamations of the crowd did not impress him. He saw that their palm branches cast the shadow of a cross. He sensed that the kingly crown they were offering to him that day would become a crown of thorns by the end of the week. Jesus knew that the identity the world offered was not a secure identity, not a legitimate identity, and certainly not a dependable identity. No, for Jesus, the only true identity is consciousness of who we are in the eyes of our Creator.

To the disciples, on the next weekend, it must have looked like the world’s biggest failure, a cruel joke. Imagine being sucked in to a group like “the Twelve.” To them “the Way” must have appeared more like a primrose path. Because they were still so dependent upon the things of the world for their sense of identity, they had to be the most embarrassed people around Jerusalem.

Then came Easter. Out of the tomb came the Risen Messiah with his identity still intact. “He is risen!” is shorthand for Jesus’ message of resurrection:

Behold, I have overcome the world. Behold, I died and I am alive. Behold, who you are need never again depend upon who you know, what you wear, where you live, what you do, how much you possess, or even what people say about you. Because I live, you will live also. You will experience new life in me and you will be able to face the popularity contest the world is running with confidence that you don’t really have to enter it in order to find out who you are. Here is my crown. It is yours! Take it! And believe me when I tell you that this crown of glory, which is both mine and yours, will never fade away.

Who and whose we truly are – that’s what Holy Week and Easter are all about. This Holy Week will be quite different for Christians around the world because of the COVID-19 Pandemic. We will miss our gatherings, palm waving, foot washing, darkness and light, and all of the other tokens of his passion, death, and resurrection. Instead, we will gather virtually in front of our computer and television screens. This extraordinary time will teach us new things and, perhaps, help us see ourselves in a new light. When we emerge on the other side of this pandemic, we will never be the same. But we will still have our identity intact as children of God and heirs of God's amazing grace through faith in Jesus Christ – the same, yesterday, today, and tomorrow.

Guard your health, stay out of harm's way, and remember who and whose you are.

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

April 2, 2020
What then are we to say about these things?

NBC News carried a report on Wednesday of this week concerning a so-called Bible teacher who is claiming that this coronavirus pandemic is the consequence of God’s wrath having been ignited by “gays, people with depraved minds, and environmentalists.” Before this is over, I’m sure we will be subjected to more of the same kind of wild declarations. I don’t know who is more dangerous; the people who say such things or the people who believe them.

Alas, there have always been and perhaps always will be those who believe God uses events such as pandemics and natural disasters to punish humanity and those who try to pinpoint the end of history when God’s judgment will be rendered.

These issues have been around so long we even have terms for theological discourse concerning them. For example, Theodicy attempts to deal with how and why a benevolent God allows evil and suffering. And, Eschatology is the study of questions about the final events of history or the ultimate destiny of humanity.

Our response to human tragedy and our beliefs about God’s intentions probably say more about our own personality and outlook on life than about God. It is understandable when people are hurting and need to assign blame for the events that caused harm. And people whose experience of life involves heavy doses of righteous indignation and divine retribution naturally want God to take charge and straighten out everybody they disapprove of.

For my own part, I’m impressed with the complexity of the physical universe. The more science discovers about things like quarks, chaos, leptons, and pheromones, the more my view of the Divine Being expands. Why would God go to so much trouble just to perplex humanity and then to destroy us? Isn’t it just as likely that God created all things for good and gave human beings the resources to discover ways to cherish and protect creation and its creatures? For me, life is one big epiphany!

When I peer into suffering, I see the God of compassion not causing harm but caring for those who are hurting. When I ponder the end of history, what comes to mind is not a so-called “rapture” or celestial supreme court, but instead a cosmic “Ah-ha” experience in which “every knee shall bow and every tongue shall confess” (Isaiah 45:23, Romans 14:11, and Philippians 2:10,11).

The issues are far from settled and the discourse will continue. Those who need a wrathful God and an end of things characterized by judgment and retribution have plenty of preachers and churches to reinforce their viewpoints. But I am grateful to be a part of a church that believes “the universe is good, that it is the work of a single loving God who creates, sustains, and directs it” (BCP, 846). I am privileged to foster a view of the Christian hope, which is “to live with confidence in newness and fullness of life, and await the coming of Christ in glory, and the completion of God’s purpose for the world” (BCP, 861).

St. Paul says it so beautifully in these words from the Letter to the Romans: “What then are we to say about these things? If God is for us, who is against us?… Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will hardship, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?… No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:31, 35, 37-39).

Here is a prayer from the 1928 Book of Common Prayer that I invite you to pray during this difficult time.

In Time of Great Sickness and Mortality.

O most mighty and merciful God, in this time of grievous sickness, we flee unto thee for succour. Deliver us, we beseech thee, from our peril; give strength and skill to all those who minister to the sick; prosper the means made use of for their cure; and grant that, perceiving how frail and uncertain our life is, we may apply our hearts unto that heavenly wisdom which leadeth to eternal life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. (Page 45, The Book of Common Prayer, 1928)

God bless and protect you and those whom you love.

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

March 26, 2020
Righteousness and Rewards

The Gospel for The Fourth Sunday in Lent this year is John 9:1-41. Jesus seems to give a non-answer to a very serious question about a blind man’s suffering.

Rabbi Harold Kushner's book, When Bad Things Happen to Good People, was a best seller. In the book, the rabbi addresses the haunting question about the correlation between sin and suffering, about righteousness and rewards. Rabbi Kushner says it all has to do with luck. There is good luck and there is bad luck – neither of which is dependent upon a person's goodness or badness. There is a kind of randomness to life.

Today, we want explanations, answers that make sense to us and reassure us that we are okay. Thousands perish of AIDS and famine in Africa, people are crushed in an earthquake in Haiti or Chile, hurricanes destroy lives and property in Puerto Rico and the British Virgin Islands, floodwaters destroy people's homes, terrorists gun down innocent people in the streets, and the Coronavirus Pandemic casts a pall of sickness, unemployment, economic calamity, and death across our planet. How can God be good and still allow bad things like these to inflict good people like us?

Jesus' own disciples asked him questions like that. “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?” Jesus didn't take Rabbi Kushner's approach. In today's climate, Jesus wouldn't win any awards in the pastoral care department either. He said, “Neither. This man was born blind so that the glory of God might be revealed.” Consistently, Jesus denies any direct correlation between the kind of person you are and what happens to you. In another instance he declares that, God “makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the righteous and on the unrighteous” (Matthew 5:45).

Why did this happen to me? Probably, for no good reason. Bad things happen to the good and the bad all the time. The notion that only good things happen to good people was put to rest when they crucified Jesus. Now, this same Jesus takes our question and makes it cruciform: can you trust God – in joy or in pain – to be your God? Can you love God without linking your love to the cards life deals you?

And then, we have televangelists who tell us that this pandemic is divine retribution for some views people have on various social issues. They want us to believe that if we don’t agree with their particular view of things, God will smite somebody at random and it will be our fault. That’s a pretty scary way to look at our God.

God's love carries no promises about good or bad save the promise that God will not allow anything worse to happen to you than happened to God’s own Son and that beyond sickness and death, life is changed, not ended.

Saint Augustine of Hippo mused over the great suffering that occurred when the barbarians sacked Rome. He noted in his City of God that when the barbarians raped and pillaged, Christians suffered just as much as non-Christians. Faith in Christ did not make them immune to pain and tragedy. Augustine wrote, “Christians differ from Pagans, not in the ills which befall them but in what they do with the ills that befall them.” The Christian faith does not give us a way around tragedy. It gives us a way through it!

What do we do with our neat little distinctions in a church where we think being nice is the way to salvation? God's sunshine and rain keep blurring them! This is the way God responds to our questions – not with answers that flatter us, or make the world simpler than it really is, but with God’s life given for us, that we might more fully give our lives to God.

So, during this time of anxiety, let's look for ways for God might be manifested in our lives and ways God can use us to bring peace and calm and hope to others. We don’t know how long this social distancing will last nor do we know the full impact of this health crisis. Gathering together is central to how we have always done Church but we can't do it right now. We are trying to learn and practice more and new ways to be Church when we can’t physically meet together. Worship will be streamed by video each weekend we are apart. Our clergy and pastoral care ministry are reaching out to people in the parish who are vulnerable. We are encouraging everyone to connect to our online directory (Breeze). We've set up a Helping Hands Network in order to learn who needs to receive help and who is willing to provide help. Groups are meeting via video, teleconferences, and email chains. When we need to get important information out, we will be more redundant than usual, employing a variety of avenues including social media, email, voicemail, and text messaging.

If you have put off learning how to use new technology in order to communicate with others, please, please find someone to help you learn what you need to do today! We need to see each other’s faces and hear each other’s voices. This situation is not likely to be over for months. Our faith compels and equips us to find the way through this and do it together!

Blessings,

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

March 19, 2020
New Life Requires Risk and Trust

The readings for this Sunday are filled with images of renewal – new birth, new life, new creation. These images imply that God’s promise for new life entails God’s gift of a fresh start, freed from the restrictions of our past lives in order to enter a new relationship with God through the power of the Holy Spirit.

Lent is a time for engaging our new life in Christ more deeply, risking new levels of trust. The purpose of Lent is not to dwell on suffering, or to spend forty days bewailing our manifold sins and wickedness for the sake of feeling our pain. Lent is about engaging in the ongoing process of renewal, regeneration, and new birth; it is about encouraging us to trust and to risk going forth and being sent out with the promise of new life.

Lent may require us to “think outside the box” of piety and religiosity, just as Abram and Sarai had to break with their past, and the Pharisees Saul and Nicodemus with theirs. The promises of God bear not only upon the future of our individual lives in relationship to God, but also upon the future of our parish, our diocese, and our Church as a whole

To respond to the promise for new life means we have to be ready to redraw and rename the places on the journey. When the ancient ones told the story of Abram and Sarai, they were also inscribing new place names and creating a new social geography on the territories of their migrations in company with God.

God may be inviting us to rethink how we do Church in light of the socio-geographies of the times we live in. When Saul the Pharisee became Paul the Apostle as we know him, he brought new words, images, and new community structures into being, “calling into existence things which do not exist,” by trustfully following Jesus into new life.

Lent is for listening to that call in our own lives. In the words of James Russell Lowell, “New occasions teach new duties, time makes ancient good uncouth.” Lent is for careful thinking about how to step into the as-yet-unmapped future, to deepen our relationship to God, to trust the picture of new life in Christ, and for identifying the breaks with the past that we need to make in order to respond to the promises of God.

I'll see you in Church!

The Very Rev'd Ron Pogue
Interim Rector
St. Martin-in-the-Fields Episcopal Church
Keller, Texas

March 5, 2020