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I’ll have a Markan Sandwich, hold the meat.
July 19, 2015 by AdminAccount 0

The Rev. Jodi L. Baron –  July 19, 2015 – Proper 11, Year B: Mark 6:30-34, 53-56

“Wherever he went, into villages or cities or farms, they laid the sick in the marketplaces, and begged him that they might touch even the fringe of his cloak; and all who touched it were healed.”

 

I’ve been thinking a lot about sandwiches this week.

 

I love a good sandwich.

 

Right now, my favorite has been smoked turkey with avocado, lettuce, tomato, a little aioli on multi-grain bread.

 

The kind of bread that has flecks of seeds and grains embedded right into every bite.

 

The kind of bread that makes you hungry smelling it bake.

 

Judging by its central role in our sacrament of Communion, I think Jesus must have liked bread a lot too.

 

There are two parts about this mornings text that have to do with bread.

 

One part is the giant void of one of the greatest stories in Mark (the feeding of the 5,000) that we didn’t read (verses 35-44). The one where his disciples beg him to dismiss the people so they can go get something to eat and he says to them, “You feed them!” (I love that part)

 

So they manage to gather up 5 loaves and 2 fish and Jesus turned that into enough to feed all who were gathered, so much so that there were 12 baskets of leftovers.
I bet that bread tasted amazing to those folks gathered on that hillside to hear Jesus teach.

I bet their tummies rumbled in anticipation when they heard Jesus give God thanks.

 

 

Then there’s the other part about bread. It’s not actually in the text but more about the text.

 

 

Mark is well known for his literary style of “sandwich” stories. We heard one a few weeks ago with the Temple Leader and the Hemorrhaging Woman.

 

Today’s reading is also one of those sandwich stories. Only without the turkey and avocado and all the fixin’s.

 

Today’s story was just the bread of the sandwich.

 

I like to look at in context of what is coming down the pike in our lectionary over the next 5 weeks.

 

You see, after today we’re taking a little break from Mark. Well, not really a break…more of a zooming in on the contents between the pieces of hearty bread.

 

Over the next few weeks our lectionary will move us into John where we will hear about the feeding of the 5,000 and the walking on water by Jesus, but told for the community that were a part of John.

 

And, oddly enough, Mark’s version of these two miracles doesn’t actually get read when we’re together on Sunday. Not once in all three years.

 

I invite you, therefore, good Gracians, to take up your bibles at home and read verses 35-52 about these two miracles and then come back and see if you notice anything when it’s read from the Gospel according to John.

 

But back to today’s daily bread.

 

There is a lot in these two pieces of bread, even without the fixin’s.

 

Take, for example, the two words that leaped from the page for me;

 

Compassion and Touch.

 

Compassion he showed first to his disciples in seeing their need for refueling and second on the massive crowds that continued to swarm them desperate for healing.

 

Touch recalling the same desperation and faith of those reaching their hands toward Jesus as the woman who was hemorrhaging in the story we heard a few weeks ago.

 

The text tells us that Jesus had invited his disciples to “Come away” for a while to a deserted place so they could rest. Catch their breath. Maybe even catch a few fish.

 

But they couldn’t. As soon as they got on the boat, we read that they were “recognized” and the crowds hurried on foot to meet them.
Word was spreading about Jesus and his disciples. People were hearing what he was doing; touching people and allowing them to touch him.

 

They figured they could use some healing too.
In fact, in this story, the people seemed to be so determined to meet him that they forgot to bring any food with them, and they stayed there all day long, so long that the markets had closed.

 

But Jesus, seeing the great crowd had compassion for them.

 

Sympόnia.

 

It means sympathy, charity, fellow feeling, or commiseration.

 

This is the introduction we are invited into to prepare our hearts for the miracles about to take place.

 

And then the begging comes in. The masses keep bringing their sick on mats to wherever he was so that they might just touch “even the fringe of his cloak” and be healed.

 

“Just a touch, Jesus.” A father says. “I’m not asking you to come with me to where my daughter lies. I’ll carry her to you because I recognize you! You’re the one who heals people even if they only touch the hem of your clothing. I know that if my daughter touches just the hem, she will be made well.”

 

What faith!

 

What courage!

 

What strength these people showed!

 

“And all who touched (the fringe of his cloak) were healed.”

 

 

The God of all of creation, became vulnerable to take on our flesh, so that we might touch the hem of the clothes that he wore and experience healing.

 

The kind of healing that no human can provide.

 

The kind of wholeness that only comes from a relationship with God and in community.

 

The kind of healing that comes from showing up and allowing the Holy Spirit to work through your brothers and sisters so that together we can heal the world.

 

May we be those places where the crowds can bring their wounds to be healed by the balm of Jesus. In the breaking of the bread, in the sipping of the wine, in the prayers of our people.

 

May we have the strength and courage to bring our own wounds and fears and hopes and dreams to the God who has compassion on his creation.

 

Strength in Need
July 12, 2015 by Jennifer Adams 0

The Rev. Jennifer L. Adams-  July 12, 2015 – Proper 10, Year B: Mark 6:14-29

So I have managed through over twenty-one years of preaching in this place to have never preached on this gospel passage.  And I consider that one of my greatest scheduling victories.  Now this story only comes up in this form once every three years so I’ve only had to avoid it about seven times, but I’ve managed until now.  This congregation has heard Tom, Bill, Henry and Dennis preach on this gospel at least once each and this morning I offer my apologies to both Jodi and Christian for not offering either of them this “learning opportunity.”  Somehow in the midst of General Convention’s calendar and the Barons’ vacation timing, I slipped in what I’ve relied on as my scheduling mastery.  And so here we are with John the Baptist’s head on a platter and me here in pulpit, praying with hopes of avoiding a similar fate.

It is without argument a horrible story. We’d all avoid it if we could. It’s a horrible end to a powerful prophet’s life. But often stories like John the Baptist’s do end this way and I actually think that’s what we need to wrestle with this morning.  Prophets’ stories, at least in a temporal sense, rarely have a happy ending.

And this theme of the lives and deaths of prophets has been in the air now for a couple of weeks.  Last Sunday we heard our Presiding Bishop-Elect Michael Curry preach his closing sermon from General Convention, but the gospel passage that day was about prophets and it was about how prophets can’t be heard in their hometowns.  Even Jesus “had no power” when he preached in his own family’s synagogue, the gospel said.  He was stripped of something there.  And then this week we heard about the death of John the Baptist who had already been stripped of his freedom.  He was in jail the story recalled.  And then from there John was stripped of his life.  Now he was killed for complicated reasons, the gospel said, but they all had to do with John’s speaking the prophetic truths that he’d been given to speak.

So prophets are powerless at home and they’re often destined to meet a painful end. But we need prophets and they play a critical role in the unfolding of the story of God’s people. And so this morning I want us to ask two questions about prophets:  First, if you’re called to be one, what keeps you grounded and strong?  What keeps you going if you’re a prophet?  And then second, how can we be open to receive prophets in our church, in our world better than we tend to do.

First the question about grounding and strength.  What (given other attractive options like “keeping quiet”) what keeps a prophet going?

Well remember that there was nothing about John the Baptist that was overly attached to the things of this world, to put it mildly.  He wore camels’ hair.  He ate locusts.  He hung out in the wilderness.  So, no fancy house.  No overstocked pantry – probably not even a hidden stash of honey.  And obviously, no extensive wardrobe. John the Baptist clearly did not seek his comfort, his grounding in any of the potential trappings of this world.  He wasn’t in this world to fit in it – he was in it to change it and so he didn’t get lost in the temptations that can suck us in.

John was preaching repentance and forgiveness for a living, or maybe better put is that he was preaching repentance and forgiveness to be alive, truly alive.  Remember John was out there at the river every day offering new beginnings for those who had never been offered new beginnings before.  And John knew in his heart and in his soul that he was preparing the way for the one who came after him, preparing the way for the one who would be the way for many.

And my guess is that John got his strength from a couple of places.  First from God, from faith in something larger than himself.  (Perhaps this is a given, but it’s worth noting.)  Remember that it was clear that John had a calling from his very beginning.  He was born to Elizabeth and Zechariah when they were well beyond childbearing years and no doubt John had heard the family story endless times about how he’d lept in his mother’s womb when Mary, the Mother of Jesus had come for a visit to their home.

So John knew all along that he was called by God and so he had a lot to lean into when he hit the tough patches.  Faith was woven into his very bones and he undoubtedly found strength there, even when the walls were closing in around him.

But in addition to his faith, I bet John also found strength from the people he met down by the river. And I think this is an essential dimension in the work of a prophet.  John kept going not only because he’d been called, but because that calling was continually inspired, and re-inspired by the people whom he encountered every day.

Those people down by the river were the kinds of people who were hungry for what the world could be, because the world as it was, wasn’t feeding them.  They weren’t fitting in either, either because of their own sins, or because of something more broadly systemic or both.  And remember that the River Jordan attracted an incredible diversity of folk – there were “the outcasts” and “the sinners,” but Pharisess, religious leaders who had questions came there too.  Even Herod was listening to what John had to say!  I find that an intriguing part of this gospel story: “When Herod heard him he was greatly perplexed,” the gospel said, but Herod “liked to listen to John.”   Herod was even moved in his own limited and lacking way to “protect him.”

So what happened was that over time, John got to know the stories of the people who came to the river. He knew their pain and he knew their hopes; he knew what pulled them out there, or what had pushed them out there.  John knew what they longed for and he knew what the water revealed in them.

And so I think John probably found strength in their need; he found strength in “them” as prophets do.  Prophets come to realize that they have nothing to lose themselves but they also recognize that there are people in this world for whom truly gaining is nearly impossible.

And so John spoke prophetic truth first to them – the truth of God’s forgiveness and the promise that there was more to come.  And then he spoke the same truth on behalf of “them” to those whose power was stifling the world, rather than loving those in it.

I believe that in the hearts of prophets like John the Baptist live the stories of those who long for more.  And within those stories, and in God they find their strength.

Which brings us to the second question I wanted us to ask today:  How can we receive prophets better than we do?  Well, I think the answer is clear; in order to receive the prophets, we need to carry the stories too.  We need to know the stories of the river people, those who hunger, those who thirst, those who question, those who doubt, those who are on the outskirts due to their own searchings or their own sins or the sins of others or some of all of the above.

We need to know the stories, because when we carry those stories in our hearts and then we see or hear prophets speaking on “their” behalf we become cheerleaders rather than threats.   We become the ones helping to clear the way, rather than those who are blocking it.  When we carry those stories, those people in our hearts, we become the ones who dance at the breaking in of the new day rather than those who fear what we have to lose when it happens.

And so one final piece for this morning.  I think that we can be the river, or at least a place that the river runs through. I think this is the collective calling that we share.  We can be that place where prophets meet hurts, meet sins, meet Pharisees, meet questions, meet forgiveness, meet new beginnings, meet God.  We can be that place that helps weave faith into our very bones, however young or old our bones happen to be.

In this place we’ll see not only the needs of the world, but our own needs too and through a grace bigger than any of our callings, the stories will come together and be held as one.  And in these moments of story telling, water sharing, vision bearing, and prophet making –  a new day will begin to take hold.

 

 

 

 

 

Go!
July 12, 2015 by Jennifer Adams 0

Here is a link to the sermon preached by Presiding Bishop-Elect, The Rt Rev. Michael Curry at the closing Eucharist of the General Convention of the Episcopal Church on July 3, 2015.  We watched and listened to this sermon on Sunday, July 5th at Grace, Holland.  Thank you, Bishop Curry!

Faith & Action
June 29, 2015 by AdminAccount 1

Sermon by The Reverend Christian Baron Pentecost 5, Year B Mark 5:21-43

“My little daughter is at the point of death. Come and lay your hands on her, so that she may be made well, and live.”

 

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit… Amen.

 

This has been an incredible week. For me, it has been a roller coaster, filled with ups and downs. A time of great sadness about the human condition and at other times, I felt some of that hope restored. It has been a time of extremes for sure. We are still mourning Charleston and the nine human beings who were killed because of the color of their skin. There has been a raging national debate on race and racism and whether we should reasonable gun restrictions or whether individuals should arm themselves to the teeth for personal protection.

 

Should government buildings be allowed to fly a flag that for many is a symbol of heritage and pride and for most others a symbol of oppression and institutional racism. A racism that has built this nation on the backs of black men and black women and black children. A racism that still affects this country to its core. A racism that is difficult to notice if you happen to be Anglo and a racism that is a constant reality if your skin is not the same shade as mine. A racism that built the Episcopal Church in America and that oppressed and prospered from the slave trade.

 

Absalom Jones was an abolitionist and Episcopal priest that led a black congregation in a white church. The group refused to sit in the balcony and wanted to be treated as equal and as baptized followers of Jesus. But the Philadelphia Church refused and so the black members walked out giving birth to the black church…  The same denomination, The American Methodist Episcopal Church that was the site of the newest nine martyrs of the Christian Church in Charleston, South Carolina. . For those of you that didn’t know this story, I’m sorry to tell you. I’m sorry that the Church that you love has black eyes and that the body of Christ has an ugly and broken past.

 

Though it seems like last Sunday was weeks ago, a few of the members of Grace sat with the community at Maple Ave Ministries and heard some speakers and sang lamentations for the nine who were killed. One of the speakers talked about the birth of the black church and told the congregants about Absalom Jones made them aware that the need for the black church in America was due to the racism of the Episcopal Church. I’m sure he didn’t know that there were Episcopalians in the pews. I felt ill. I was angry.  I wanted to stand up and say, “Yes!  But we aren’t like that anymore.” I’m glad I sat and remained silent. I sang with and wept with those in the pews. And I felt helpless. I had no idea what to do. This isn’t something that many of us feel very often. I knew that I couldn’t fix anything but i knew I wanted it to be fixed as soon as possible. I felt like I had no agency. I felt desperate.

 

And then three black churches were burned in the south, presumably by Anglos because of hatred and racism and sin. Last week Jodi preached about Jesus calming the storm. The disciples cried out “Jesus, don’t you even care if we perish?”  I could have just read that sermon today.  You there Jesus? Do you care about what is going on? Do you care about what we’re doing to ourselves and to your children?

 

And if we’re waiting for the kingdom of God that the apostle Paul speaks about… These are the parts of the Kingdom that are not yet finished.  Not yet redeemed. Not yet realized.  Not yet arrived.

 

The text for today is one of my favorites.  I love Mark and I love how he writes. I can see things in the text and can imagine being right with Jesus. It isn’t difficult for me to put myself in the sandals of Jairus. A man whose daughter is deathly ill. A man with no hope. He has exhausted all of his options. tried everything.  Feels like he has no agency and no other place to turn. “God do you care about my daughter? Do you care if she perishes?” HIs idea seems crazy and at best a longshot. He has heard about Jesus… a man who can do things that are almost magical. He can heal people and calm storms.  “If he can command the storms, surely he can heal my daughter simply with his touch.”

 

And now we get one of Mark’s sandwiches. Mark’s gospel is full of stories within other stories and this is one of the best. In the middle of the Jairus story, Jesus is in a crowd of many people. In Mark, the crowds signify chaos and anxiety and tension.  In this crowd, Jesus feels power leave him. A woman who has been bleeding for 12 years touches his cloak and is healed immediately. What?  Magic clothes? Surely desperate… this woman would not have been permitted in worship because of a strict purity code for men and women.

 

But the Markan sandwich offers us two distinct kinds of people. A wealthy and powerful leader of the synagogue. A man.  And a woman who would have even less agency than a Jewish woman living in the first century. An outcast. Both helpless… both dependent. Both desperate for healing.

 

And the woman receives healing. Not because of Jesus magic or because of magic clothes. Jesus says that it is her faith that heals her. And that, in and of itself is perplexing.  Her faith has healed her. Because we need to get back to Jairus and his dying daughter.  The text says that as he is speaking the words of healing to the nameless woman, a messenger arrives to declare that Jairus’ daughter has died. The tension has mounted… now what?  I can imagine hearing this the first time and thinking “How tragic. What will Jesus do now? No Jesus… don’t tell everybody that she is just sleeping.. that isn’t going to work.”

 

And then he touches her, just as Jairus had asked… similar to the touch of the nameless woman… and says “Talitha Cum”. Get Up!  He resurrects her and tells them to feed her… It is a great story. Filled with twists and turns and pithy statements and dozens of theological nuggets. It is in fact good news.

 

And, we could use some good news couldn’t we?  Is there good news in this gospel text today that can speak to our racism in America?  to our racism in the Church? We need a task list don’t we? Well, I think there is good news for us and for our context. I think there is healing in this text.

 

Both Jairus and the nameless woman, took matters into their own hands.  Their faith in God pushed them to action. Jairus certainly could have sent a messenger to find Jesus and beckon him to help. He could have sent several. But he was desperate. He was all in and much more committed to the task than a messenger. This was his last shot and didn’t want to risk leaving it up to somebody else. He got his hands dirty and got to work.

 

And the nameless woman… she also was desperate.. she sought her own healing. She yearned to be well.  And she had to break the purity code to do it. Because of her ailment she was not supposed to touch others. She wasn’t supposed to be in public. But when you’re desperate, you are willing to risk. You are willing to do whatever it takes.

 

The powerful must take action on behalf of those without agency. The action must come from Jairus because his daughter cannot. Her problem has become his problem. Both are relying on his action.

 

Faith and action… Faith and action… This is our problem… What will we do Grace? What will we do as individuals and corporately? What action must we take on,  on behalf of our black brothers and sisters? For our healing and for theirs.

 

May I offer a couple of suggestions?

 

Sit in uncomfortable places. Put yourself out there and be willing to be vulnerable. Find where the conversation is… and lean into it.

Listen to real experiences about how people of color feel on a daily basis.

Unfortunately, not much of this work can be done on the internet.

We must go to the places, like Jairus and the nameless woman, crowded places…

Places that will not be easy to get to or go to.

We will need to sacrifice our schedules if we want to experience this healing.

It will take work and the work will be slow.

It will take intentionality and patience.

 

That is how we begin our journey to healing.

A New Presiding Bishop Elected
June 28, 2015 by Jennifer Adams 0

On Saturday, June 27th Bishop Michael B. Curry was elected to be the next Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church.  Bishop Curry is an inspirational preacher, evangelist, and social justice advocate and is the first African American to be elected to this position.  “The truth is we are brothers and sisters of each other,” Curry said. “The hard work is to figure out how we live as a beloved community, as the human family of God.” Here are some links to see more: Episcopal News Service, Huffington, Religious News Service.  And here’s a sermon to watch too!

With Prayers for Charleston, South Carolina
June 19, 2015 by Jennifer Adams 0

From The Lakeshore Ethnic Diversity Alliance | June 2015
(Note the invitation at the bottom of the letter!)

Dear Friends,

Our nation has experienced yet another tragedy in the hands of hate, and our hearts hang heavy today with the Emanuel AME Church community; the families of these loved ones, and the nation as a whole. This is a time to mourn the loss of these individuals, who were leaders, pillars in their community.

But, this is also a time for us to recognize this happens too often. Too often do we hear on the news that another life has been lost as an act of hatred was carried out; too often do we hear another black man has lost his life and nothing is being done to hold those accountable; too often do we hear about violence that is perpetuated in the name of racism.

The slaying of these nine people, as they were praying in a church is an act of pure evil and hatred. It is a tragic reminder that though we have made great strides, we have much work to do to eradicate the senseless hate of racism, the daily consumption of a racist legacy that continues to exist.

In Charleston, the roads that black people drive on are named after confederate leaders who fought to not see these people drive freely on them. The confederate flag still hangs at full mast today. It is not just the legacy of racism that is alive and well, but perpetual, unconscious actions that continue to open the gaping wound of racism. We see this not just in Charleston, but even here, in West Michigan.

As so many national leaders have made clear, we all are saddened by the loss of nine innocent people in the hands of such hatred. We are in tears to see a nation, a community, and the families experience such loss. Today, we all grieve with Charleston.

Sincerely,

Gail Harrison, Executive Director
Lakeshore Ethnic Diversity Alliance

Note: Imagine Fellowship will host a special service on Sunday, June 21st, 2015 at 5pm to commemorate Juneteenth. Those in attendance will join in prayer for Charleston, the victims, and their families. All are invited to attend this service and join a march from Imagine Fellowship to Maple Avenue Church & Ministries that will follow.

Small but Mighty
June 14, 2015 by Jennifer Adams 0

The Rev. Jennifer L. Adams – June 14, 2015 – Proper 6, Year B: Mark 4:26-34

I love a good mustard seed parable.  Perhaps it’s because it reminds me of that little necklace I had as a child that was popular among some church going crowds right up through the seventies.  It was a sort of globe with a very, very small seed in the middle of it – some of you can probably picture what I’m talking about.  Besides necklace nostalgia, I’m also just drawn to things that start out small but have the potential or promise to be strong – seeds, kids, congregations, hope.  Not to mention that 5’1” soccer player, a defender (and shortest player) on the US Women’s team, who on Friday saved a goal (and the game!) against Sweden with a header on the goal line!  (There, I managed to work in a World Cup reference for those of you who were wondering how I’d do it. And there are still three weeks left in the tournament, so look out.)

OK, back to mustard seeds.  Here’s some detail to remind you of just what we’re talking about here:  mustard seeds are very, very, very small only about 1 or 2 mm in diameter.  And, just for comparison sake, in the world of seeds they’re slightly bigger than poppy seeds and dandelion seeds, but smaller than pumpkin seeds, watermelon, apple or coconut seeds.   Color-wise, mustard seeds can be black, brown, yellow or white.

In terms of the gospels, mustard seed references appear in Matthew, Mark and Luke, and it’s interesting to note that in inter-faith terms, mustard seeds are also used in Buddhist teachings, and appear in both the Koran and various Jewish texts.  So across gospels and across faiths, the mustard seed is that very, very small thing that either grows up into something much larger than would initially seem possible; or it is that very, very small thing that is all we need in order to be faithful people.  The author of Mark put it like this in today’s reading: “It is [almost] the smallest of all the seeds on earth; yet when it is sown it grows up and becomes the greatest of all shrubs, and puts forth large branches, so that the birds of the air can make nests in its shade.”  So the mustard seed is a small thing that not only grows much bigger than one would expect it to grow, but also within its very own branches it creates space to nurture others too.

And so in some ways the message this morning is very simple:  the kingdom of God has been planted and it will continue to grow among us.  It’s a done deal.  It’s gonna happen because the sower (capital ‘S’) has done his work.  The seeds are here and they’re already taking root, and holding on, and poking through the surface and beginning or continuing to breathe of the air and drink of the water and reach out into this world with God’s mercy and grace.  The kingdom will come on earth as it is in heaven.  Today’s gospel reminds us that that is very simply, a given.

But this also means something else that’s very, very important.  This parable tells us that if we’re willing to look for the kingdom of God, we’ll see it.  That’s the other part of the good news this morning, and this is the piece that’s our work to do.  The seeds have been sown and the Sower will ultimately make this kingdom happen, but we have work to do too.

We have to notice. And we have to tend.

This parable reminds us that we have to take responsibility for how we look at, and therefore engage God’s world.  Do you look out into this world and see something like a garden that’s going to grow big and lush and abundant for all?  Are you willing to see the seeds taking hold and offer yourself to their care?  Are you able to look out into this world and notice the branches reaching out to you, to those who are other than you and tend the growth and expanse of that reach?  Truth is we can be those who see the kingdom breaking through or those who wonder if the seeds were ever planted at all.  And while it’s a leap of faith that we probably have to take over and over again in our lives, the invitation is to believe that the seeds are everywhere. The call is to live and work as if they are.

Know that in their very essence the seeds contain things like forgiveness, hospitality, justice, mercy, grace, and peace.  The seeds contain love and they contain faith and hope.  The seeds were sown in all colors, in all places and reconciliation lives in the core of their being and runs right out through the very tips of all of the branches.  The seeds actually want to grow out into those mighty bushes and trees whose branches provide food and shelter and shade and home and a resting place for all the creatures of this world.

The seeds contain the ability to make the vision of a diverse, peaceable, blessed, loving kingdom a reality right here in this world.

So that 5’1” soccer player (whose name by the way, is Meghan)? When she was asked how she did what she did, she said this, “I was just doing my job on the team.”  And that was that.  I got the sense the reporter was looking for some big explanation when really, her response was about as simple as they come.  “I was just doing my job.”

Well, we all have one – in the church and in the world – a calling or several that are related to helping the kingdom come.  And no matter your height, your size or the amount of faith you’d claim to have – you have enough to do what our post communion prayers calls “the work we’ve been given to do.”

So come on team! Small but mighty seeds have been sown in our midst – mercy, hope, love, compassion, justice, forgiveness are all longing to break through the surface where they haven’t yet and to reach out more broadly into this world where they’ve already begun to take hold.  So open your eyes.  Open your hearts.  Somebody go get some water!  Somebody make more room for the light to come in!  May God grant us the courage and humility to notice the seeds planted, and the vision and the love to help them grow.

Amen.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Send us, God. Send us.
June 14, 2015 by Jennifer Adams 0

The Rev. Jennifer L. Adams- May 31, 2015

Trinity Sunday: Isaiah 6:1-8, John 3:1-17

Today on the liturgical, church calendar, we’re celebrating Trinity Sunday.  You probably picked that up in the opening collect: “ You have given to us your servants grace,” we prayed, “to acknowledge the glory of the eternal Trinity, and in the power of your divine Majesty, to worship the Unity.” A mouthful for sure. A heart-full and mind-full too for that matter. This is the day on which we celebrate the mystery and power of God as: Father, Son and Holy Spirit; Mother, Child, Sophia; Creator, Redeemer, Sanctifier; Transcendent, Incarnate, Holy Breath of God. And I could go on and on; there are many other traditional and not-so-traditional ways in which we can talk about what the famous hymn (which we will sing in a few minutes) calls, “the three in one and one in three.”

Now this day seems to bring fear in to the heart of many preachers, and perhaps to congregations also as they wonder how or, perhaps, how long the preacher is going to talk about God today.  My Facebook feed and a couple of the websites and some of blogs I read this week were revealing preachers’ fears right up through early this morning.  “How can we possibly put words on this?” they wondered.  “Who am I to talk in terms of that which is most holy?”  “What resources are you using to preach on this the HARDEST SUNDAY of the year?” one person asked.

We also heard some concern in the reading this morning from the prophet Isaiah who was, at the beginning of that passage, in a place of pure awe and humility as he considered the most holy, “Woe for me, for I am lost!” he said as he gained his own glimpses of God. “For I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean lips and here I am, me of all people bearing witness to the King (capital K), the Lord of hosts!”

We even heard a related fear in the story from John’s gospel, which told us the story of Nicodemus who came to talk to Jesus under the cover of darkness.  Nicodemus came to Jesus by night because his experience and understanding of God was changing, and Nicodemus, a Pharisee, a religious leader, was afraid to share those questions, to have those conversations in the light of day.  He had too much to risk to show up at this point in the story in broad daylight.

And so one of the things I learned this week is that perhaps I’m a little foolish.  There are things that scare me for sure. Trust me I have a list that gets updated regularly and as hard as I work, I have yet to clear it. But talking about God just isn’t on there.  I actually love doing this!  And I want us to love this too.

I don’t want talking about God or talking to God to be on any of our lists of what scares us.   There’s enough out there to be afraid of – this shouldn’t be one of those things.  Our thoughts, our prayers, our new insights, even our foundation-shaking questions and doubts can live among us right here in the light.  We don’t have to be afraid of any of this.

Because if we do anything thing in this place on a regular, daily, basis that is our “normal”, it should be sharing our thoughts and experiences of holiness.  That’s what makes this place a little different, right?  Regardless of the specifics of the particular moment, whenever we come together, we come together for the sake of, in the name of, for the purpose of our relationship with God, and to sort out and act on what all of that means.  God-talk is the most normal thing we do here, which doesn’t mean it isn’t holy.  It just means that it’s what we do.

Now maybe one of the important things to know is that our engaging in this ongoing God-conversation, which means our doing theology together, is not about getting it right which I think is where some of the fear comes in.  If it were about getting it right, meaning there would be divine retribution – lighting strikes, destruction etc. – if we got it wrong, there wouldn’t be any people left.  I’m convinced that the pure ongoing existence of humanity is a sign that doing theology is not about perfection.

Perfection on all things God is just not a part of our history of either society or church, nor is it our goal.  The holiness that is God is in large part mystery and the best we can do is allow ourselves to be taken in to it, to be held by it, created and re-created by IT, healed, fed, nurtured, turned around, forgiven, loved, sometimes even resurrected by this mystery – doing our best along the way with whatever words we can find, whatever song or prayer or doctrine or art we can find to talk about and share those dimensions of our lives.

Now the other important thing to remember in this God conversation of which we’re all part, is that the sources for helping us in this work are endless.  We’re chalk full of them in this place – take the Bible for starters.  “In the Beginning God created” is how it opens.  “God so loved the world that he sent his only Son,” we heard today from John. And last week, “The Spirit came among them filled with grace and truth.” Creator.  Redeemer. Sanctifier laid out quite clearly (and not so clearly at times but present) in the stories and letters and gospels within Scripture which is source number one.  Then there’s The Book of Common Prayer, the Episcopal/Anglican source that’s right here in our pews and whose contents are printed in our bulletins.  Hymns and ancient prayers and stories and psalms, all right here at our fingertips at Grace, in our memories, in our hearts, on our lips. Sources galore!

But even more than that, there’s also all of us, sources one and all, to help us with this conversation, the theology we do as God’s people:

One of the wonderful things about Grace is that I can sit with seminary faculty who have degrees in Scripture and theology and I can sit with three years olds who haven’t been to school yet and with each of those groups, in each of those conversations I/we we can learn something about the wonder and power of God.  One of the most profoundly theological observations of the year came from a five year old who after hearing the story on Good Friday asked me, “Why do we call this good?”  And he meant it.  Church itself is an intergenerational theological endeavor.

I (you too) can sit in the presence of someone who is dying or in the presence of someone who has just been born. And at any given moment those two what we would call ‘extremes,’ thinking linearly, are present within the breadth that is Grace Church.  In either of those circumstances, in either of those profound experiences there is an absolute and sometimes even palpable sense of a divine holiness greater than us all.

We can also stand in the streets and we have, outside of this place with those who are working for justice and peace, as those who are working for justice and peace and we can catch on to a dream that is still being given life and breath among us.  We can catch that Spirit that blows where it will or maybe better, it can catch us, blowing us back into the kind of dream that allows the whole world to be made new, “born again” if you will.

So the sources that shape and re-shape and feed what one theologian famously referred to as “faith seeking understanding” are endless.  We have nothing to fear.

Although I bet, even after all of that we think we do – have something to fear, that is. And so I want to circle back to the mention of that list, those lists of things that scare us just to make sure they aren’t left hanging. Because they shouldn’t be.

Now I’m not going to lay out my list this morning, nor am I going to ask you to but I’d place bets on some overlaps, at least in terms of themes.   Each our lists probably contain things that have to do with unknowns, or loss, or darknesses of the literal and/or metaphoric sort.

The good news on Trinity Sunday, and every Sunday really is that that God is bigger than all of it, whatever it is.  Always. And God is present in all of it, whatever it is. Always.  And God is blowing like the Spirit does through it, whatever it is in ways that surpass our understanding, shaping, reshaping and making new. Always. And so we pray and we sing and we talk and we hope and we love and we hope and we dream.

“Who will go, forward from here?” God asked the prophet Isaiah.

Send us, God. Send us.

 

Grace is Feeding America!
June 11, 2015 by Jennifer Adams 0

Feeding America food distribution is this Thursday, September 11th! If you need food, come!  If you can help serve and distribute, come!  We will cook and share a meal with about three hundred guests and members and distribute over 10,000 lbs of food, laundry detergent and toilet paper.   Come between 4:30 and 5:00 to help with set-up and to welcome our guests. Come about 4:00 if you can help with the meal in the kitchen. Food distribution lasts until about 6:30-7:00 pm.  All are welcome to help.  All are welcome to receive. – See more at: http://www.graceepiscopalholland.org/news/feeding-america-grace#sthash.Fpf8wK6W.dpuf

The General Convention of The Episcopal Church
June 11, 2015 by Jennifer Adams 0

The 78th General Convention of the Episcopal Church is coming up!  Rev Jen will be in Salt Lake City June 22-July 3 serving as a diocesan deputy for this triennial gathering that brings together representatives from  every diocese and province of our church. Follow what’s happening at Convention via the official Convention website generalconvention.org which will include live streaming of various worship services, presentations, legislative sessions and debates.  Also watch the website of the Diocese of Western Michigan to read updates from Rev Jen and other members of our diocesan deputation at edwm.org.

At the Occasion of Bill Fleener’s 60th Anniversary of Ordination
May 11, 2015 by Jennifer Adams 0

 

Sermon preached at the Celebration of 

The Rev. William Fleener’s 60th Anniversary of Ordination to the Priesthood

John 21:15-17

Thank you Bill for the honor of preaching today.  You have been a special person in my life for over twenty-five years and so the opportunity to get to say “Thank You, Bill Fleener” comes as gift to me.  You were on the Commission on Ministry when I began the ordination process helping take the edges off those first steps and giving me and many others a challenging, but safe and supportive place to land.  You served at Grace, Holland for several years as a “sort-of-retired” (what does that even mean, Bill?) Assistant Clergy person when I was beginning as Rector.  And you presided at Beth and my blessing over ten years ago, before it was even marginally cool to do so.   And so this “Thank You, Bill Fleener” is something that comes from the heart today.

All of our hearts, actually.  Safe bet for me to say, everyone? We’re all here because you, Bill, are a part of our stories; we’re here today because of the experiences of family and church and prayer and conversation and justice seeking through which you showed us something of our God and gave us something of ourselves too.  And we are grateful.

Now sixty years is a very long time! That’s is one of the deep and profound conclusions at which I arrived this week. Sixty years is a long time, Bill!  And Judy!  That’s three thousand, one hundred and twenty Sundays, if anyone was curious or simply in need of some hard facts in all of this.  Now I’d subtract some of those for the Sundays you took off, Bill, but I’m not sure there have been any!  You seem to always be somewhere, Bill Fleener.  You are always somewhere preaching about forgiveness, or inclusion, or unconditional love, or life-long learning, or the humanity of Jesus and the love and power of God, or how or how not to read Scripture.  (I think I’ve covered at least most of the main themes there.)  Recently you were rumored to have asked as an opener to your sermon with the Order of Julian whether or not they still burned heretics at the stake, which indicates to me that even given all of those years, you’re not done yet.  So we’ll say three thousand, one hundred twenty . . . and counting.

And we all know that you don’t only work on Sundays, so the numbers of days served are even higher.  You have worked tirelessly, Bill, visiting shut-ins, upgrading data bases (thank God there are people who do that!), literally feeding the hungry, granting absolution, marrying and blessing and teaching (mostly non-heretical things,) basically holding on to what is right and standing up for what is wrong in our church and in our lives.  And if I had to summarize your ministry, Bill, it would sound something like that.  You have helped us hold on to what is good and right, sacramentally, lovingly, and consistently — and you have stood up for what is wrong, passionately, faithfully, stubbornly (in a good way) in our church systems, in this world and in our lives.

You, straight-white-ordained- guy (which is not revealing anything people don’t already know and I’ve actually heard you use that phrase from the pulpit so I know it’s OK) you had options in terms of how much to get involved in the work that is change in the church and in the world.  And you knew early on as far as I can tell, that there were sheep of all kinds who were hungry and deserved a place at the table. And you knew early on that there were disciples of all kinds, shapes and sizes and genders and orientations and ages who were called to minister in this church.  And so you did the work that was your own work, and then you helped the church do the work that is our work: hours that have added up to weeks and months and years given to congregations, this diocese, the Episcopal Women’s Caucus, Cursillo, Total Ministry, Integrity, and more – to local groups and efforts for whom extending a broader reach and embracing a broader flock was priestly, holy work of the people.

I think of it this way: you used your priesthood to make room for ours, Bill, all of our priesthoods lay and ordained together.  You have used your priesthood to remind us all that we have one, a baptismal call to holy ministry in service to God and neighbor. And we’re grateful. You have these whole sixty plus years been living into the gospel story we heard proclaimed today.

Does Bill Fleener love, Jesus?  I’d say yep –without a doubt.  And I say it three times, loudly with exclamation points! Because I’ve been watching you Bill respond with your life. Does Bill Fleener feed the sheep?  Yep on that too.  Three times again loudly! Or better three thousand one hundred twenty times and perhaps that times about one million.

Now I want to close with a story.  Last Wednesday I was telling the Grace folks at our mid-week Eucharist about this service today.  This Wednesday gathering is a group of three to five regulars that ranges in ages from forty-something to seventy-something and they are there every week and they have been for years.  And so when I told them about this anniversary celebration, one of them said without hesitation, “I think of Bill every Wednesday when we say the AMEN.”

Now I had no idea what she was talking about but she explained that when Bill was at Grace on Wednesdays he would hold a place of silence at the great AMEN in the Eucharistic prayer because he refused to say it by himself, or even to lead in that moment of proclamation.  And so he’d wait for the people, that beautiful little flock, to jump in and claim that moment as theirs, as all or ours.  And because we’re a pretty quick learn down there at Grace, it was very soon that the AMEN was loud and proud and it was theirs.

And so, Bill Fleener, to close, I will say that our “AMEN!” is stronger because of you.  Our Amen is more humble, more honest, more real, more broadly, inclusively proclaimed because of you.  And we are grateful. Thank you for holding on and for standing up. Thank you for feeding the sheep with all that you are.

Amen!

So That’s How They Managed!
May 11, 2015 by Jennifer Adams 0

The Rev. Jennifer L. Adams – April 19, 2015 – Easter3, Year B: Luke 24: 36b-48

The gospel we just heard is part of the Emmaus resurrection narrative in the gospel of Luke which means that it fits into a larger picture of Jesus appearing to the disciples in varieties of settings.  First, two disciples were walking on the road to Emmaus and a “stranger” met them on that road and asked them about what had been going on in the city of Jerusalem.  Not recognizing this stranger to be Jesus, they questioned how he could be so out of it.  The stranger then opened their hearts and minds to understand the Scriptures and when the three settled in for the evening in Emmaus, the “stranger” blessed and broke the bread the shared it with them. It was at that point that they knew the stranger was the resurrected Christ.

And so then came the story we heard today.  The disciples (who had met Jesus in the breaking of the bread,) returned immediately to Jerusalem to tell the other disciples what had happened.  And again Jesus came among them.  And AGAIN they didn’t understand what was going on until Jesus opened their hearts and their minds (which helped a little, but apparently not much).  He then asked them for food and ate and shared some broiled fish and told them that the spirit would soon come among them to give them what they needed to witness to the good news of new life.

And hearing these stories and all that preceded them in the gospels, I often wonder how they managed, these disciples.  Even given all of their first hand experience with Jesus they were barely getting it, struggling at every turn.  And yet there was bread when they needed it.  There was fish when they were hungry.  Beyond the miracles which were obviously God’s doing, how did these disciples manage to hold it together as well as they did?  There were rooms in which to meet whenever they needed space to get together for study or for meals  They were able somehow to communicate with each other, had Scripture readings on hand when the needed them and apparently there was some sort of shared calendar that let them know where each other happened to be when they came back into or left town.

I’ve wondered this for a LONG time, but just week, I figured it out. Not only was God with the disciples, but the disciples managed because they must have had a fantastic church secretary.  Perhaps this is when Church Ladies first came to be.

Today we celebrate and thank Gail Westherhof, known fondly in this place as “Church Lady.”  Gail has served Grace for twenty-three years as secretary, administrator, building coordinator of sorts, and right-hand person for just about all of us in the many, many ministries that are Grace Church.  We’re saying “Thank You” all morning, and as we do this I want to make clear some of what we’re thankful for.

Over the past twenty-three years Gail has:

Unlocked and opened Grace’s doors approximately 4680 times. (And locked them at least a couple.)

She’s walked through 23 Advents, 23 Christmases, Epiphanies, Lents, Easters and Pentecosts with us – learning hymns and other fun Episcopalia along the way. It might not be well-known but should be that shortly after Gail arrived at Grace she bought a book titled, “Words of Our Worship: A Liturgical Dictionary,” compiled by Charles Mortimer Guilbert and published by The Church Hymnal Corporation  It runs from “Aaronic Benediction” to “Zuchetto” (a small skull cap worn by clerics.)  This dictionary and Gail’s use of it is why I know (among other things) that the wall behind me is called the “reredos.”  Thank you, Church Lady.

(And just FYI – this book has been officially, ceremonially handed down to Mary Miller, our new office person.)

Over 23 years, Gail has prepared 1586 service bulletins, put together 220 newsletters and brought in at least 2880 donuts to support the folding teams.  She filled in the data for 23 Parochial Reports for the Episcopal Church and collated 23 Annual Reports for Grace, Holland.

Gail unjammed the copier (of which their have been many over 23 years) about 1150 times, assuming an average of about one per week, which might be low, especially in the early years.

Gail transitioned Grace through the computerizing of the office and the many hardware, software and web updates since that first big step.  She answered the phones about 46,000 times and received at least 23,000 people through the office door.  (Some of them repeats.)

Gail prepared at least 552 mailings.  Which means she applied more stamps than I can possibly figure out. (Not a surprise to Gail, given my postal challenges.)

Gail carried infants and little kids out of the building during approximately 27 Grace Christian Child Care Center fire drills.  She also turned off the elevator alarm and called it in for repair at least 17 times.

Gail helped us relocate the office during floods and remodels and she hung in there just long enough to experience her first church property fire.  (Many of us fully expected flames to emerge every time that Gail was lighting the old ovens which she did approximately 57 times, but apparently, she and we have angels.)

Gail has trained and/or retrained about ten priests in all things church office, perhaps the hardest and most demanding pieces of her job.  And she welcomed about six puppies that one of those priests brought in along the way so that those little creatures could get to know church offices too.

Gail has sat in that central office and been the one who first picked up the phone or received that person who walked through the door because they needed to plan for a funeral at Grace, and she did that about 156 times. She also helped plan about 7 1 weddings, and 92 baptisms through which we welcomed new folks into the household of God.

And I could go on and on.  And you could too.

Which is why when I hear stories like this gospel story I picture an amazing church secretary behind it all, and maybe you all do too. Gail, Church Lady, we offer you our deepest thanks for supporting the ministries of Grace Church for twenty-three years.  And we thank you not only for the numbers behind those years, but for the personality, the humor, the love, the care.  We pray for blessings all around as you take these steps into the next phase of your life, and as you have very gracefully helped us prepare for us take ours.  We’re also glad that you’ll be around occasionally to help with some summer projects and a few other things too, and so this can be a ‘thank you’ without having to be a final ‘good bye’.

Now (to get on with things,) we have more meals to share, Church People!  More miracles to help happen because behind all of this there has been not only a wonderful secretary, but an incredibly loving God.

We have hearts and minds yet to open, ours included, Grace Church.  We have roads to travel, doors to unlock, and good news to proclaim!  We have hands and feet of the risen Christ to be and a Spirit to look forward to welcoming among us.  So, let’s, get to it.

Alleluia, Christ is risen!  The Lord is risen indeed, Alleluia!

 

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