Sermon from Advent 2C (RCL) - Preparation...

St. Anne’s Episcopal Church, Reston, VA
Advent 2C (RCL), December 6, 2009
Leslie C. Ferguson, Seminarian
Malachi 3:1-4; Psalm 126; Philippians 1:3-11; Luke 3:1-6

“Prepare the way of the LORD, make his paths straight… and all flesh shall see the salvation of God.”
Luke 3:4b-6

A long time ago I vividly remember hearing my defensive line coach tell me, “Struggle in preparation prevents undue perspiration later,” and “if you aren’t willing to prepare you won’t prevail on game day.” I bet he never guessed that he would make it into a sermon later in his life; I know that I didn’t believe I’d remember that statement so vividly almost 30 years later. Maybe his line of thinking is part of the reason that I can look at preparation with dread.

I wonder how John the Baptist felt when he realized that he was the prophet who would prepare the way for the Lord that was predicted by Isaiah. Imagine – preparing the way for the Lord! I wonder if he was anxious about the monumental nature of that task. The bible never says but by all appearances John starts off in his calling as a prophet without trepidation. Given our world-situation, I wonder if a modern-day John the Baptist would be as calm and steadfast as John in first century Palestine.

But life is about preparation, we can’t get away from having to prepare. Right now, we are all too familiar with preparation at personal levels: teachers, parents, and students are ensconced in preparations for final exams and the end of a semester; our religion is marching through the season of Advent in preparation for Christmas; our society is pushing through a season of preparation with Thanksgiving right behind us and Christmas bearing down on us; and this Church is preparing for the coming fiscal year: new vestry members, new budgets, and new pledges; all to equip us to do the work of God in our world. But there is a less obvious yet more pertinent preparation in our midst – there are two families who have prepared their children for baptism; prepared them for full inclusion in the Body of Christ. This preparation signals a change of life and hopefully a change of view.

Many people, me included, feel some anxiety about the amount of planning and preparation that is occurring right now. It is said that the holiday season is the most stressful and anxiety producing time of the year. Many folks dread preparing for things because of the anxiety produced by the unknown, the test that is looming ahead, the desire to get things right by our power and through our preparation. Our dread and the quantity of things we’re making decisions on, coupled with the unknowns in our society today can cause anxiety to run rampant in our lives. As Ed Friedman said in his book Failure of Nerve, too much acute anxiety can lead to emotional paralysis; physical exhaustion; lack of clarity; and failure of nerve.

But preparing doesn’t have to be as anxiety riddled as we have let it become. But where can we take our cues for the decisions we have to make on a daily basis? We can take a cue from the Hope and Smiley families who have brought (will bring) William, Emma, and Jack into our family today. Their baptism and the ritual of the church reflects on what we believe it means to live as a member of the Body of Christ; to live in covenant with God through our affirmation of the relationship we have with God through Christ; the kind of relationship that trusts God to lead us where she wants us to go.

In baptism at their presentation, the candidates and sponsors affirm their faith in the saving grace of God. It is this saving grace that provides our strength and helps lessen the hold of anxiety on our lives and our bodies. The candidates and sponsors help us remember where our power comes from when they pledge to “renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God; ” sometimes viewed as anxiety and fear. And strive for peace by putting “their whole trust in God’s grace and love. ” But it doesn’t stop there; we, as a community, affirm that we will do “all in our power to support them in their life in Christ ” that also means each other in the Body of Christ. Likewise, we affirm with every baptism we participate in that we will strive to live our lives after the life of Christ, not as anxious members of an over-prepared society but as members of a trusting and loving community of faith.

So, what decisions are plaguing us personally today? What about as a community of faith? We are looking at a new year with many sources of uncertainty and anxiety. We are in the middle of our annual stewardship campaign in the midst of the competing interests of Christmas and Thanksgiving. We are staring at the bottom of one of the worst financial crises in our collective history. And yet we feel the sense that there is more that we should be doing to help others who are less fortunate than ourselves. We, as a church, have said that what we have isn’t really ours and that we have been put here at St. Anne’s, at this time, to make a difference in our community, our state, and our world. We affirm this with every baptism and in every celebration of the Eucharist in our confession of faith. So where do we turn in our days and hours of need? I suggest that we need to look at our communal lives through the eyes of faith and with an eye on our baptismal covenant that we just (or will) recited. Therein is the key to help us know that we are making the right decisions for God and the furtherance of God’s plan.

As we affirm in the baptismal ceremony we are not the ones whose power will help us succeed in the important relationships and decisions in our life. Most know that they need help to reach their full potential. Now, I won’t downplay the place of preparation, that is essential in achieving our goal but I subscribe that it’s not our personal strength that allows us to prevail in God’s work. The baptismal promises made by the parents and godparents say it all: “I will with God’s help.” Yet, it doesn’t stop there. Our baptism reminds us that our community is responsible to support us to make a difference in our world.

Our participation in the Body of Christ demands we make a difference; have a change of heart; and return to God’s fold. But we cannot expect to make a lasting change in our life or the world simply by relying on ourselves; and we are getting closer to realizing true change when we lean on our community to help. But the real power to effect real change comes through our dependence on God’s help.

What important decisions are we preparing for? How are we focusing on our preparation as we look for refinement in our solution and clarity of thought? Our refinement comes from trusting God to provide the direction we need. Our clarity comes from testing our decisions against the “refining fire” of scripture in relationship with our community. Our fulfillment and peace come from working together in community to effect real change in the world to bring about the Reign of God.

Only with God’s help can we comprehend the answers to the tough questions we are asking; the critical steps in our personal and communal lives that we are preparing for. Only with God’s help can we lessen our anxiety so we can make the decision that best fits God’s plan for our personal and communal lives. When we come to God, realizing that it is God’s strength and not our own, in prayer and humility are we able to be the people we promised to be in our baptismal covenant, as ones who seek and serve Christ in all others and love our neighbors as ourselves.

In faith and trust we find the key to the tough decisions of our life; the place where we find calm in the storm of preparation. May we continue to see and sense the presence of God in our lives and decisions during this season of preparation of Advent.

Amen!

Reflections about deafness

What is my feeling about hearing loss? Do I want to get my hearing back? Why or why not. There’s a part of me that wants all of my hearing restored – I do miss all the beautiful music and hearing all the things that I can’t hear (and know they are present). But there’s a part of me that has become accustomed to not being able to hear clearly. Would it be better to be totally unhearing? I don’t think so, I’m happy with where I am and the ability that I have to hear and to not hear.

Why would I care about getting my hearing back or not? Is it worth worrying about? I don’t think so – it’s not like I expect I’ll ever get my hearing restored and certainly not like I had before. I don’t ever think that I’ll be able to hear at 0-5-10 again and I’m not sure that I’ll be able to deal with all the sound that would impede on my life.

What would it mean to be “normal” again? I’m interested to figure out what it means to be “normal.” I guess it’s like everything else – it’s situational and can be defined by those who are associated with the “norm” whatever that may be. I think I’m “normal” but it’s hard being “different” than the mainstream society. But how does my life as a hearing and deafened person in a society that is dominated by hearing people.

St. Anne’s Episcopal Church, Reston, VA
Proper 25(B) [RCL], October 25, 2009
Leslie C. Ferguson, Seminarian
Job 42: 1-6, 10-17; Psalm 13; Hebrews 7:23-28; Mark 10:46-52

How long, O Lord? will you forget me forever? *
How long will you hide your face from me?
Psalm 13:1, BCP

How long? I have spoken this phrase more than I care to admit and the story related by the Psalmist and echoed in the gospel this morning hits close to home. Many may not know but I have been afflicted with a “mild to profound sensorineural hearing loss” for over 18 years. A long time ago I experienced spiritual healing. The irony is I believed that I would get my hearing back but after my pastor laid hands on me my hearing level actually got worse. I was disappointed but I plugged on, but with a self-generated hole inside because of my hearing loss. However, I came to realize that I was profoundly healed in this situation because I was “forced” to listen with my soul and not just go through the motions with people. The hole I created was filled by an overwhelming realization of the presence of God in my life. My healing has led me to focus my efforts on helping others become aware of the presence and providence of God in their lives.

But, this sermon isn’t about me; this sermon is about Bartimaeus, Jesus, and the crowds of people in Jericho. This sermon is about the healing that took place on that eventful day and how that healing applies to our current social situation.

We may remember that God’s law to the Israelites is summed up by “love your neighbor as yourself” yet today’s passage shows Israel not loving one of their own; they are not living in community with, or being hospitable or welcoming to Bartimaeus. I wonder how long it took Israel to become a nation that felt empowered to exclude a disabled person like Bartimaeus. At the beginning of today’s story we see that Bartimaeus is treated worse than a Gentile – he is placed squarely outside the margin in society. And yet, Bartimaeus interacts with Jesus and in his desperation he turns to his one last hope and is miraculously healed of his blindness and returned to an “acceptable” status.

Since our country’s beginning we have been a place where people came to overcome oppression and tyrannical governments. Yet throughout our national history we systemically oppressed and marginalized classes of people, often with our government’s support or at least its silent consent. Sadly this statement shouldn’t be a shock but in 21st century America there are still people who are marginalized. There are people who are systemically marginalized for the same reasons they’ve always been: race or ethnic heritage; religion or lack thereof; social status; economic status; employment status; or worse, just because they are different than our image of the norm. I must say that it is our nature, as creatures of God, to gather in groups that are alike or else we wouldn’t be humans or our animals wouldn’t be herds and flocks. Yet our quest for those who are like us sets us up as a society that excludes people for any number of “justifiable” reasons. It’s been said that both oppressor and oppressed like to be separated and affiliated with those who are just like themselves; because we feel there IS security in knowing that everyone around us is living in the same conditions (more or less) we are. Misery loves company. This isn’t right as I know it, it’s just how we are; not how we should be. But how do we change the way we are wired? What can we do to not exclude the “other?” I think today’s gospel message holds a key.

Today’s gospel is one of healing. There is the obvious healing event, Bartimaeus had his sight miraculously restored, and he was healed of the thing that separated him from the rest of society. But I see another healing of sorts in the story. Prior to Jesus’ arrival on the scene and while Bartimaeus was ignoring the crowd’s order to be quiet, Bartimaeus was an outcast, broken from society, invisible to the folks in the “in crowd.” But Jesus does more for Bartimaeus than just heal his sight, he returned him from the margin and invited him back to the road, to become a member of the society and walk with the Disciples and Jesus. By his invitation Jesus did more than just restore Bartimaeus’ sight; Jesus restored the sight and perception of the society; he made them acknowledge and recognize the marginalized person in their midst. He caused them to stop and remember the one who they had so easily forgot.

By his action, Jesus served as a bridge in the gap between the “ins” and the “outs.” He claimed a place in society for the one systemically excluded by prejudice and intolerance. He helped heal the rift that had been created in the society; the condition that allowed the Israelites to discriminate against Bartimaeus. Jesus helped fill the hole that had been created in the fabric of the community, not just the visible needs of one like Bartimaeus but the unspoken need of all the people in the Jewish society. Jesus helped create a community that better demonstrated God’s command to love one’s neighbor as oneself; regardless of their apparent sin or separation from the “ideal” of God’s kingdom on earth.

So what? This is a nice story for the Israelites; we want to believe the story has applicability for places in our world that continue to discriminate or oppress others who aren’t like them. “But not in our United States.” Yet, it struck me last weekend, when I was driving to Reston for the homelessness walk that I wasn’t going to have many issues on Saturday, even though it was raining cats and dogs and cold. Then the gravity of what I was doing set in; I was fully prepared for the weather: Gore Tex, multiple layers, and a rain coat; yet I almost forgot the people I was walking for – those who would be struggling in those same conditions because they didn’t have my stuff. They were beyond the margin in our society. When I read the Psalm for this week the image from last Saturday haunted me: I had found the marginalized in our life; I found my sight that had been missing.

But what is the challenge for us at St. Anne’s? We do a lot already. But first and foremost, we need to live the instituted by Embry Rucker at St. Anne’s over 40 years ago. But that’s not enough, we cannot rest on our past, we have to continue to move the message of God forward into our community and our world. We must consciously look for those people who are marginalized by our city, nation, and world. We cannot assume that if we don’t see them they aren’t there. We have to call into our faith community and our society all people, especially those who are or have been systemically marginalized. We must continue to be an advocate for healing in our society in our outreach ministries like: the Homelessness walk; in FACETS; our participation with Reston Interfaith; our national and international mission trips; and the assistance for the underprivileged in our midst. We need to continue to live out the good news of God’s salvation through the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Christ until all people are liberated from oppression.

All people need healing of one type or another. God heals all people, not always in ways we see immediately not always in ways we expect but God is always present to heal our lives. God heals all wounds and infirmities – some take more time and patience than others. We participate in God’s healing of all by searching for God’s presence in ourselves and all people in our midst. We participate by witnessing to God’s providential interaction with all humanity. Then, and only then, can we bring true healing to our world. Then, and only then, will we be healed of our brokenness. Then, and only then, can we be made spiritually whole.

In faith, let it not be “How long?” Rather, let it be… Amen!

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Fall 2009 Quiet Day - A Reflection

A Life of Joy in a World of Anxiety
Rev. Dr. A. Katherine Grieb

My 5th quiet day – I approach this one with great anticipation.

I am amazed that I am still surprised by some of the physical aspects of the seminary. There are still things on this campus that are new to me – not just the “annuals” of the newly installed stuff. I am amazed by the St. Francis statue by the bench at the corner of the graveyard. That’s an odd combination. Then right next to that is a bridge and a bench right next to Mitzi’s yard.

I am also amazed at the insulation we have from the outside. We have room to be a place of peace and (relative) quiet in the midst of the hustle and bustle of Alexandria and Washington D.C. When we are here we seem to be protected from the community – even though there is nothing stopping an “assault.” At best we have two gates to keep people out (why?) but otherwise it’s a sidewalk and some fencing. Our only buffer is open space (like the grove, Trotter Bowl, and parking lots) – inviting to some, excluding/isolating to others.

Why do we choose to live this life of semi-isolation? What is it about the outside that keeps us here, especially on a quiet day? There is tension: we are called to minister in and to the world; we are called to come away and separate ourselves from society; we are called to be in community with others “like us.” Sometimes these feel like they are at odds.

Anxiety and joy: emotions that are opposed to each other. What (at least for me) causes these two emotions/states of being? Anxiety: isolation, self-dependence, self-reliance; joy: community, partnership, God-reliance. Anxiety: dis-trust; joy: faith. It’s interesting that this profession puts us in tension. Why? I won’t say for spiritual growth – that sounds too flippant. But there is truth there. As we grow in trust we become better able to live the life of joy because we stop making it all about us. The reality of our life is it’s all about the relationship with/between God, community, and self. To truly live joyfully we cannot be divorced from the relationship/equation. Joy, for God, proverbially resides at the intersection of our sacred-human relationship.

…shifting gears…

What is it about being wholly present with a person that prevents me from “forgetting?” Ironically, I was slightly overwhelmed yesterday in ethics class when we had a discussion about theodicy and untimely death. My immediate response was flashing back to Children’s National Medical Center and the day the 8 year old died. Not wholly surprising – that was a life changing day (no pun intended) – still, the vividness of my memory was mildly shocking. What does that say about my “suitability” to be a pediatric hospital chaplain? I don’t think it precludes the option, it just means I have to live there in joy and not anxiety.

On my own, the world can be (is) overwhelming. In community/with God, I will not be overwhelmed; I will be blessed by trying situations and I will be able to live in joy and not anxiety.

The Labyrinth
It’s not that God is at the center of the labyrinth. God is there but God is everywhere.

Why am I called to the center? Not to stay there sitting with God; I’m called to pause there, refocus on where God is; challenge where I claim God “to be;” and carry the revelation that God is wherever we stop to look for him.

Our humanity is our belief that we know where to find God – someplace besides everywhere. But the reality is God is there where we are. Our journey revolves around God, always and everywhere present. God is like (but not really like) the canvas that “houses” our labyrinth. God is the fabric that our journey takes place in/on/over/through/about/around. (How do we journey in company with God anyway?)

Our joy is remembering all the journey is with God, regardless of where we turn. We can wend our way all over creation and never leave God’s presence. God is at the center of our universe, at the center of your universe, at the center of the universe; in/of/about/beyond time and space.

Our mission is to help others see God in the fabric of life; not because we’re better at it. Rather, because we are touched by God’s presence in a special way. Because we’ve had someone point out the presence of God at our center we must share that understanding of God’s presence at the center of all life and all over.

Thanks be to God

Sermon audio for Teresa of Avila - Oct. 15, 2009

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Fall 2009 Quiet Day - A Life of Joy in a World of Anxiety

Fall 2009 Quiet Day

A Life of Joy in a World of Anxiety
Rev. Dr. A. Katherine Grieb

My 5th quiet day – I approach this one with great anticipation.

I am amazed that I am still surprised by some of the physical aspects of the seminary. There are still things on this campus that are new to me – not just the “annuals” of the newly installed stuff. I am amazed by the St. Francis statue by the bench at the corner of the graveyard. That’s an odd combination. Then right next to that is a bridge and a bench right next to Mitzi’s yard.

I am also amazed at the insulation we have from the outside. We have room to be a place of peace and (relative) quiet in the midst of the hustle and bustle of Alexandria and Washington D.C. When we are here we seem to be protected from the community – even though there is nothing stopping an “assault.” At best we have two gates to keep people out (why?) but otherwise it’s a sidewalk and some fencing. Our only buffer is open space (like the grove, Trotter Bowl, and parking lots) – inviting to some, excluding/isolating to others.

Why do we choose to live this life of semi-isolation? What is it about the outside that keeps us here, especially on a quiet day? There is tension: we are called to minister in and to the world; we are called to come away and separate ourselves from society; we are called to be in community with others “like us.” Sometimes these feel like they are at odds.

Anxiety and joy: emotions that are opposed to each other. What (at least for me) causes these two emotions/states of being? Anxiety: isolation, self-dependence, self-reliance; joy: community, partnership, God-reliance. Anxiety: dis-trust; joy: faith. It’s interesting that this profession puts us in tension. Why? I won’t say for spiritual growth – that sounds too flippant. But there is truth there. As we grow in trust we become better able to live the life of joy because we stop making it all about us. The reality of our life is it’s all about the relationship with/between God, community, and self. To truly live joyfully we cannot be divorced from the relationship/equation. Joy, for God, proverbially resides at the intersection of our sacred-human relationship.

…shifting gears…

What is it about being wholly present with a person that prevents me from “forgetting?” Ironically, I was slightly overwhelmed yesterday in ethics class when we had a discussion about theodicy and untimely death. My immediate response was flashing back to Children’s National Medical Center and the day the 8 year old died. Not wholly surprising – that was a life changing day (no pun intended) – still, the vividness of my memory was mildly shocking. What does that say about my “suitability” to be a pediatric hospital chaplain? I don’t think it precludes the option, it just means I have to live there in joy and not anxiety.

On my own, the world can be (is) overwhelming. In community/with God, I will not be overwhelmed; I will be blessed by trying situations and I will be able to live in joy and not anxiety.

The Labyrinth

It’s not that God is at the center of the labyrinth. God is there but God is everywhere.

Why am I called to the center? Not to stay there sitting with God; I’m called to pause there, refocus on where God is; challenge where I claim God “to be;” and carry the revelation that God is wherever we stop to look for him.

Our humanity is our belief that we know where to find God – someplace besides everywhere. But the reality is God is there where we are. Our journey revolves around God, always and everywhere present. God is like (but not really like) the canvas that “houses” our labyrinth. God is the fabric that our journey takes place in/on/over/through/about/around. (How do we journey in company with God anyway?)

Our joy is remembering all the journey is with God, regardless of where we turn. We can wend our way all over creation and never leave God’s presence. God is at the center of our universe, at the center of your universe, at the center of the universe; in/of/about/beyond time and space.

Our mission is to help others see God in the fabric of life; not because we’re better at it. Rather, because we are touched by God’s presence in a special way. Because we’ve had someone point out the presence of God at our center we must share that understanding of God’s presence at the center of all life and all over.

Thanks be to God!

Teresa of Avila - Perfectionism, Excellence, and You

Virginia Theological Seminary Chapel
October 15, 2009; The Feast of Teresa of Avila
Leslie C. Ferguson
Psalm 42:1-7; Romans 8:22-27; Matthew 5:13-16

May the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight O Lord, our strength and our Redeemer. Amen.

Perfection… excellence… the pursuit of all things that are good and right in our ministry…

Today we celebrate the life and ministry Teresa of Avila, a 16th century Spanish nun and Christian mystic; a reformer of the Carmelite monastic movement. She was an example of tireless pursuit of an ideal for her ministry in the face of personal setbacks. We could view Teresa as our matron: she continued to strive towards the perfection of her ministry against the recommendations of her family and faith community. We are called to remember Teresa as a virtuous and exemplary Christian. Our collect today reminded us that she manifested the way of perfection; she is an exemplary teacher about the faith; and she can help us find true holiness. All these are wonderful ways to describe perfection in ministry.

I bet this next statement isn’t a shock to some – I’m a perfectionist; an “A+” personality; a Myers-Briggs “SJ;” striving for perfection is my middle name. There is an order and perfection in all things I do. In my prior life, there was no acceptance of less than perfection, or at least that’s what I always told myself; my society and community always rewarded incessant striving for perfection. I know I’m not alone in this seminary or society when it comes to a perfectionist gene. And yet, my striving for perfection did little more than make me lose my hair; lose weight; lose sleep; and lose time with my family: not ideal rewards for my efforts.

We as a society “know” about excellence and the way of perfection. It would be hard to think of a place where perfection isn’t rewarded: personal bests in sports; graduating with distinction or cum laude in school; or honored with an award like the Nobel Peace Prize or an Emmy. How do we achieve our perfection? The model I’ve always used is, “Study, Act, Practice, Do, Repeat.” This never ending cycle looks a lot like a hamster wheel - unfulfilling. But how can we break this pattern? How do we strive for perfection that satisfies, if that exists?

One would think that our Seminary and our Church would be a welcome break from the incessant need to strive for excellence. And yet, even here the most laid back person can be enticed to attempt to achieve excellence at an immeasurable cost. So where is our hope?

Today’s lessons show us a way to sanely search for perfection. The example of Teresa and the lessons on her feast day provide images that show us how to strive for an excellence that fulfills. The images of perfection we see are summed up by living in faith, hope, and love of God. We demonstrate these traits by living a life of trust and lightness in our soul. A soul that gratefully praises a loving and living God.

But how do we build this kind of trust? How do we find lightness in our soul – a state of not being weighed down by the illusion of worldly excellence and perfection? We are told in the Psalm that we grow in trust by longing for God’s presence like a deer longs for water. It is in this quietness and our silence before God that we are able to truly hear God’s voice and grow in perfection by sensing and proclaiming God present with us and around us.

In Romans, we are called to wait for adoption by God; we are told that in waiting we will find redemption of our bodies – redemption from the false perfection that consumes us and adoption into a place of true excellence. We are assured that we will not have to go alone in our toil but that the Holy Spirit will intercede for us and with us to prepare us for excellence according to the will of God. But we won’t be able to see the Holy Spirit without being present and still before the Lord; unless we get off the hamster wheel of action we will never be able to remove the barriers that we erect against our completeness in God; we will never fully sense the true and blessed relationship with God.

What is our challenge? How do we model our lives after Teresa? What is it that prevents us from living into a perfect life with God? Our challenge is letting God be perfect for us – all our efforts will always fall short on their own but with God they will succeed as they NEED to. We need to look for practices that fulfill us and challenge us to live a life that is different and in line with a holy life devoted to God present in the here and now. We only find these practices when we let the Holy Spirit guide us on the way.

We are able, when we stop trying to do OUR best, to see a better image of God present in our life and in our world. We are able, when we wait for the Holy Spirit to lead us, to find God in our life. We are able, when we wait with lightness and faith, to achieve perfection –completeness in our lives and the true reward of God’s love and grace.

As we wait for the Lord with patience we will be filled and enkindled with an unquenchable longing for true holiness; filled with the love of God; and nourished in our living and vital relationship with God. And when we do these things, we can truly say…

Thanks be to God!

Amen!

Sermon from the 4th Sunday after Pentecost

St. Luke’s Episcopal Church, Blackstone, VA
Fourth Sunday after Pentecost (Proper 8[B] RCL), June 28, 2009
Leslie Ferguson, Seminarian
2 Samuel 1:1, 17-27; Psalm 130; 2 Corinthians 8:7-15; Mark 5:21-43

May the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts be always acceptable in your sight O Lord our strength and our Redeemer. Amen.

Healing… what a perfect topic for a church like St. Luke’s. You have a tradition of healing ministry in this church; your Rector has a reputation within the larger Christian community regarding her profession of God’s healing power in her and others’ lives; and you are partnering with other churches in your community to carry forward God’s words of healing to a world that is desperately in need of healing.

So let me share an account of a recent story of healing I observed. A younger person, in good health, with no history of early heart issues in their family ended up visiting the emergency room on a Friday evening. Their visit was spurred on by recurrent chest pains that didn’t really fit the mold for a heart attack but were still present. After an overnight stay and a full battery of tests, including a stress test, the person was discharged in excellent health. While following up, the person admitted to their doctor and their spiritual director that they were feeling anxiety and stress from fear of failing in their chosen field. After an intervention, they admitted that most of their anxiety was caused by grading themselves against a standard of perfection that they held no other person to. The short conclusion to this story is that person began to heal their heart and their life by being forgiven and healed of their fear by prayer and their community’s action. How is this story related to the healing story from today’s gospel? You’ll probably have to bear with me for a few moments to see the connection.

The healing story from today’s gospel is one of the more recognizable stories heard in Jesus’ healing ministry. Sadly, we hear the story so often that we may not look at it critically. But that’s what I propose today, to step back from “regular” story and look at a message that I see hidden in Mark’s Gospel.

In today’s gospel we see two apparently different stories. The woman was an outsider, a person who was unclean and excluded by society because of her medical condition; contrasted with Jairus who was a prominent leader in the synagogue. But hidden in today’s account is something that ties the woman and Jairus together. What is it? We hear the Evangelist say that “the woman came to Jesus in fear and trembling and fell down before him and told the whole truth (about her healing).” Later, we hear Jesus tell Jairus, “Do not fear, only believe.” Fear was the thing they shared besides being healed by Jesus. Both people lived lives ruled by fear in one shape or another. The woman was rightly fearful that she would be caught but before her healing she also feared that she would continue to be unclean, that she would become wholly destitute, and that in reality no one would be able to help her be made whole again. In contrast, Jairus was fearful that he would lose his daughter to some unnamed illness. Each of them came to Jesus with fear and trembling, not because they were in awe of his power but because they were truly afraid that their worst fear may actually become the reality of their life.

I will have to admit that fear can be both good and bad. Bad fear is one like I described; one not based in fact but based in insecurity. While good fear is one that has foundation and justification, like ultimate death from a terminal illness like cancer or heart disease. So which type of fear do we hear about in today’s gospel? I’d say in one case bad and the other – you’ll have to answer that one for yourself.

I think the woman may have had a bad but justifiable fear. She had spent all her money without avail and there was little hope that she would be made clean or whole again. And yet her worst fear wasn’t realized. Even in that fear, the woman came to Jesus hoping beyond hope that she would be healed. It doesn’t seem that she was all that confident about her possible healing because she silently slipped in from the edge of the crowd and “stole” the healing power from Jesus. However, when she was confronted by Jesus she admitted that she had been healed by him. But she had to overcome her fear, or better yet, she had to let Jesus’ presence overcome her fear of being a social outcast. She had to let her true illness be healed by Jesus’ touch.

But what about Jairus, it certainly looks like he was possessed with good fear. The loss of his daughter to illness should be considered a good fear but what other fear might he be holding onto? In his case, the commentators believe that he had to risk his personal capital as a leader in the synagogue to go to Jesus for healing because Jesus was not “acceptable” to the other leaders of the synagogue. And yet again, Jesus works to heal his real and unspoken fear to make his life whole again, this time through the healing of his daughter. Jesus overcame Jairus’ fear that his family would be broken by the death of his daughter. And Jesus healed Jairus’ fear of being outcast for believing and trusting in him and the truthfulness of his ministry.

What is it about fear that needs healing in this gospel story? What about in our lives today? It has been said that our greatest sin, the place where we need healing in our lives most frequently is in our fear and anxiety of the unknown, those things that we try to control, like our image or our imagined failings. This fear and anxiety is the biggest thing that separates us from God’s grace. But this kind of healing is almost as important if not more important than the physical healing we hear about in today’s lessons. In today’s society we live in fear, sometimes it is a good and healthy fear while often it isn’t. What fears do we have that need to be healed? I can think of a few that we hear about in our daily lives: financial concerns; not being “better than the rest;” not comparing to the standards set by our society to name a few.

Even though the church doesn’t view healing as a sacrament, healing can be sacramental: a token of God’s sacred relationship with each of us. The obvious healing in today’s Gospel is the physical healing of the woman and Jairus’ daughter, an outward and visible sign of God’s action in the lives of these two people. But I believe the healing missed in today’s Gospel is the inward and spiritual grace: the healing of the fear and anxiety impacting their relationship with God. Likewise, the healing we crave is relief of fear and anxiety in our relationship with God, with our self, and with each other. And this is the story of grace and redemption for our lives today, the active and vital participation in our lives by a loving and caring God.

How do we find our path to reach out to God for this sacrament of healing in our lives? There are many things we can do but first and foremost we need to be open to the desire for God to heal us, not only of our physical infirmities but also of our internal and emotional hurts. We can only do this by sharing our fears and anxieties with God and Christ and with our community. Second, we need to be faithful in asking for physical and emotional healing, especially in the hidden areas of our lives. Our openness will come from sharing our deepest concerns with others and coming clean with God in that community. Last, we need to be faithful in asking for healing for others, not just the things we see or the things they ask for; but for the hidden things that only God knows and only God can heal. It is from this place that we can begin to reconcile ourselves to God and to be healed of the things that separate us from fully participating in God’s family.

As we become more aware of the Holy Spirit moving in our lives and our community we will become more attuned to opportunities to share the healing power of God in Christ. We need not come to God in fear that we may not be healed, we just need to come to God in the assurance that God will truly heal the things that need to be healed in our lives… at the right time… for the greater purpose of God.
Amen!

Easter 4 Sermon at St. Anne's Reston - The Good Shepherd Sunday

St. Anne’s Episcopal Church, Reston, VA
Easter 4(B) (RCL), May 3, 2009
Leslie Ferguson, Seminarian
Acts 4:5-12; Psalm 23; 1 John 3:16-24; John 10:11-18

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

Recently, I commented to some friends that I felt like my life was spinning out of control. This shouldn’t be surprising considering I’m just over 2 weeks from the end of the school year and have all the requisite stuff to do for my classes. One of my friends said that she had a mantra that might help: I should repeat “I’m in control, I’m in control” over and over until I felt like I was in control. Oddly, that didn’t help because the more I tried to get control of the situation the more maddening it became. I can only get a handle on a few things these days and I would hope those have to do with my faith and our church - things that are essential to me.

Then there’s today’s lectionary. Does it seem odd to you that there are no stories of the Resurrection in today’s readings? We are in the 4th week of Easter and we don’t have a direct reference to the Resurrection or a Resurrection story. Granted we see references to the resurrected Christ but here, just 21 days after Easter, we’ve moved past Resurrection stories into stories of action. That seems odd to me that a church that sees the Resurrection as the transformational event in its history would move so quickly away from that story.

You may be wondering why I’m struggling to find the Resurrection in our readings today and I hope you may wonder how these stories of action help us understand Christ’s redeeming action at Easter. In answer to the first question: I think, like many people, I want to hang on to the Resurrection as a sort of stable place to live and bask in Christ’s presence but I’m convicted to move when I try to stay fixed in a place with God. For my answer to the second question you’ll have to stay tuned for the next 5 or 6 minutes.

Recently, I’ve been asked to explain what the Resurrection means to me. I’ve also been asked why the Resurrection is important to us as Christians. I can’t argue with them because these are valid questions for someone who is in the process of becoming ordained in a Christian Church. Quite frankly, these questions aren’t trivial, and how we answer them is important to who we are as a church and how we witness the message of the gospel to our community.

The Resurrection is the defining event for us as Christians. I’ll grant that the world began in the Creation but our faith began at the Resurrection. Christ’s Resurrection is the creative event for Christianity. But the Resurrection isn’t that simple, even if we want to make it simple. We can’t distill a “once in an eternity” event into something as simple as “the defining moment in the faith.” The Resurrection is the event that signals a radical change or a radical shift in the perspective of our life. The Resurrection is the singular event that changes the way the world operates forever. It is in this moment that all the rules about life and death change.

But that’s not all that happened in the Resurrection. Christ rising from the dead makes our life new and vigorous. We are recreated by the power of the risen Christ. And as we experience the risen Christ we begin to see the need to live our lives differently, to make a difference in the world around us; this is where our readings come into play.

I believe that’s why there are all the references to laying down our life for others, because the example of Christ dying on the cross is one of his surrendering his human self for all of humanity. But that thought is troubling to me as I strive to be more like Christ in my daily life. Does my faith in the Resurrection and profession of a changed life mean that I have to die on the cross for someone or at least be willing to die for someone or for society? That may be where I am call to act in laying down my life and I hope I could go there but I also hope that the demands aren’t that extreme.

Dying for someone may be better understood as dying to your self. With that in mind let’s look at a few questions to challenge ourselves with. Is dying to my self complete surrender of who I am for someone else? What does dying to self really mean to us in the 21st century? Why is dying to our self a big deal for us to remember now, not just in the Easter season but in May 2009, in the midst of an economic recession and a swine flu pandemic?

First, is dying to self complete surrender of who I am for someone else? If we use Jesus’ example we may be tempted to say yes to that question. But there is something that doesn’t ring true in that response, Jesus never lost who he really was in his laying down his life and his Resurrection. He never stopped being the Incarnate Word of God, the only thing he stopped being was tied to his earthly body. Because Christ didn’t lose his essential nature I don’t think we should give up our essential nature for someone else. My experience, especially at St. Anne’s, is that I’m more successful in my ministry when I let my true self come through, when I invite people into my world and my experience of Christ at work in my life.

Second, what does dying to self in the 21st century really mean? Since we aren’t called to surrender our essential nature for the other, what might we be called to do for the other? We all have things that keep us from moving to the future with Christ; family relationships, personality traits, and insecurities. We are called to surrender the imperfect things in our life, those things that bind us to our former self, so that we can live into our relationship with the Resurrected Christ as a member of his body. And these actions are essential to help change the life of the other in our lives - that is how we mirror Christ’s surrender; that is a changed life. That is the fruit of the Resurrection.

Third, why is dying to our self a big deal today? We are bombarded with competing influences in our life and a society that will try to separate us from our life as a member of the body of Christ. Any number of us could identify things in our life that separate us from living into the full love of God. Let me name a few: self-dependence in light of overwhelming circumstances; turning inward in response to the external pressures of the financial crisis; closing our doors to others as we fear an outbreak of swine flu in our midst; reducing our interaction with our community because of fear about the future of our church; failing to move forward into those places that we are called by God, individually and communally. All these are examples of not losing our self for God.

Wow, that’s a bleak picture isn’t it? But I call us back to the present and the joys that we have in our midst. We ARE living in the light of the Resurrection. We are living a life that has been made anew by the sacrifice of Christ on the Cross and his being raised by the Father. We are a community that is willing to put itself on the line and be a witness to the Resurrection. We live our lives for the others in our ministries to the poor and underprivileged in our community - at the Embry Rucker homeless shelter, at the Jean Schmidt Free Clinic; and the list goes on. We live a life that is sacramental giving of time, talent, and treasure to help the church be a beacon to its community and spread the light of Christ so that others can enjoy a new life in Christ.

Now there is a challenge in our success: how do we move forward from here while living into the promise of the Resurrection? How do we realize the Resurrection in our lives laid down for others? We look for those moments where we experience a resurrection event in our lives as we faithfully follow the calling of Christ our Shepherd. As we begin to recognize the actions of Christ in our lives we need to share those revelations with others whom we love and who come into our lives. We need to intentionally set aside the things that keep us looking backwards to our old lives and look forward to the fullness of Christ living and acting in our community. We need to help others in our midst share in the Resurrection joy.

Moving from the Resurrection to our full and complete lives is what it is about in this the 4th Sunday of Easter. This is why we are called to lay down our lives for our friends and look to the Good Shepherd to lead us along the way. This is why we are placed into a loving and living community at St. Anne’s.

THAT is why we say:

Alleluia! Christ is Risen!
The Lord is Risen indeed! Alleluia!

What does it mean to be in relationship?

How do we understand the nature of our relationships: with God, with ourself, and with another (or an other)?

We are relational beings. Some can and will say that we cannot exist without others, in support or in companionship. But what does it mean to be in relationship? How are our relationships defined and shaped?

It is simpler (and I believe that is a relative term here) to be in relationship with God. Simple in so far as we can only understand God as a relationship. We cannot imagine God and humans in any other form except in relationship. But how much of that relationship is us and how much of that relationship is God? One could rightly say that the relationship is governed by God and God's providential actions to and for us. But what about us? Where is our free will included in the "equation?"

As I progress in my call to ordination I am troubled by a couple questions:
1. How do I live my relationship with God in and through my relationship with God's people? How are these relationships tempered by the presence or influence of the church (or other Christians)? Is my relationship different when I am in relationship with others in or at Church, in worship? Is my relationship different when I meet the other (Christian or otherwise) outside the confines of the Church?
2. How does my relationship with God impact my worship, both as a participant and a leader? How much do I have to do with the liturgy (the order and practice of worship)?

We (hopefully we all do) often struggle with the nature of our relationship with God and how that relationship shows in our relationships with others. Our nature is the single thing that we can bring to any relationship - but living into and with our nature is a difficult thing for me (and maybe many others).

Grace and peace to you all during this Easter Season!

The Ordination of a Priest - what I must affirm

The Ordination of a priest: What does the Church ask of all who are answering the call to ordination as a Priest in the Episcopal Church?

As a priest, it will be your task to proclaim by word and deed the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and to fashion your life in accordance with its precepts. You are to love and serve the people among whom you work, caring alike for young and old, strong and weak, rich and poor. You are to preach, to declare God’s forgiveness to penitent sinners, to pronounce God’s blessing, to share in the administration of Holy Baptism and in the celebration of the mysteries of Christ’s Body and Blood, and to perform the other ministrations entrusted to you.

In all that you do, you are to nourish Christ’s people from the riches of his grace, and strengthen them to glorify God in this life and in the life to come.

Bishop: My brother, do you believe that you are truly called by God and his Church to this priesthood?
Answer: I believe I am so called.

Bishop: Do you now in the presence of the Church commit yourself to this trust and responsibility?
Answer: I do.

Bishop: Will you respect and be guided by the pastoral direction and leadership of your bishop?
Answer: I will.

Bishop: Will you be diligent in the reading and study of the Holy Scriptures, and in seeking the knowledge of such things as may make you a stronger and more able minister of Christ?
Answer: I will.

Bishop: Will you endeavor so to minister the Word of God and the sacraments of the New Covenant, that the reconciling love of Christ may be known and received?
Answer: I will.

Bishop: Will you undertake to be a faithful pastor to all whom you are called to serve, laboring together with them and with your fellow ministers to build up the family of God?
Answer: I will.

Bishop: Will you do your best to pattern your life [and that of your family, or household, or community] in accordance with the teachings of Christ, so that you may be a wholesome example to your people?
Answer: I will.

Bishop: Will you persevere in prayer, both in public and in private, asking God’s grace, both for yourself and for others, offering all your labors to God, through the mediation of Jesus Christ, and in the sanctification of the Holy Spirit?
Answer: I will.

How am I living into the affirmative answers to these questions? How do I live my life to reflect these things in the world around me?

Taken from the Episcopal Book of Common Prayer, pages 531-532.

What is our call to ministry?

An interesting reflection for someone who likes concrete things (being a Myers-Briggs ESFJ) and understanding things:

I was asked about how I dealt with not being able to understand God (because there is no way to truly understand God).

My reflection is: in my life, it's less about understanding God but rather, it's about recognizing God and God's presence in the here and now. I know that I'll never understand God, even if I had forever to try, but my "job" is to try to recognize and help others recognize God's presence here, regardless of the situation or condition of the moment.

A second question had to do with my desire to fix things. How is it that I appreciated working in an environment where I couldn't, and knew I couldn't, fix things?

My realization is that when it comes to my real life, fixing is actually finding the presence of God and letting that be enough to fix the issue. Not as much a fait accompli, but the realization that there are many things that can't be fixed by human hands but that the movement of God and the Holy Spirit will make things anew.

A question to ponder: What is it about the Resurrection that makes that event the incarnational event in the lives of Christians and the Christian Church? I believe that the Resurrection (1) defines who we are as a people, and (2) sets the stage for all that has come to be and that will continue to be as God works in and through the world. So how does this reflection impact who we are and how we operate as faithful followers of God through Christ?

Peace dear friends.

All about the serpents

St. Anne’s Reston Virginia
Lent 4 (B), March 22, 2009
Leslie Ferguson, Seminarian
Numbers 21: 4-9; Psalm 122; Ephesians 2: 1-10; John 3: 14-21

A show of hands… Who here gets annoyed by questions you feel you should know the answer to but don’t? Do bible passages not make sense from time to time? I freely admit that there are things in my spiritual life that just don’t make sense to me as a rational, facts-oriented person. My friends are apt to hear me say, sometimes wagging a finger, “This doesn’t make sense; when I get to heaven and if I have an ‘extra’ I’ll ask God to explain it.” Maybe clarification is in order: I normally ask this question about topics that I don’t really believe are critical to my salvation like: Did Adam or Eve have a belly button? Just how many angels can dance the jitterbug on the head of a pin? Why did the writer of Genesis say “we” in the creation story?

I’m troubled and puzzled by today’s scripture passages on many levels. I’m troubled by the snake and the idol passage and not because I don’t like snakes, because I do. I’m also troubled by the “bumper sticker” passage in the gospel. I’m almost tempted to send these to two passages to my list of “extra” questions for God at my arrival in heaven, but I’m afraid to because: 1) today’s lessons may actually be essential to my salvation; and 2) the message was obviously important to the writers of our scripture because the story shows up in both the Old and New Testaments.

Why am I troubled? I’m troubled by my reaction to the lesson from the gospel and from Numbers. In the first case, I’m troubled by being “put off” by an overused cliché, or a passage that some see as cliché. In the second case I’m troubled by the presence of an idol and the apparent veneration of an idol – at God’s direction none the less. I think I know what it means to be faithful; and I think I know just how God will work with the Israelites; that’s why I’m gong to school right? So I think it’s best to look at Numbers and the most perplexing issue in the readings to me.

If we remember back, but not too far back, in the Israelites’ history they had another run in with an idol. The setting was a little different because the Israelites had just been delivered from the hands of the Egyptians in the Exodus and they were waiting impatiently for Moses’ return from the mount. In their self-reliance they fell back to their old ways and created an idol to worship as their god – the one they understood, the one they thought they knew well. The story is different now: the Israelites get impatient with God again and grumble at what they perceive as maltreatment by God. So what does God do? He lets them know part of his power by sending poisonous snakes to kill them. Then, in order to save them he tells Moses to create an idol and have those who have been bitten by the snakes look on it so they would not perish. I just have to say: What!? What signal is God sending? I thought he punished for “worshiping idols” and now he’s saving by having them look on the idol to bring health and wholeness.

Idols had been around for the Israelites for a while and their last recorded attempt to honor an idol landed them in the desert for 40 years. Now arguably, this story may have been told by the Israelites just because there were a lot of legends and mythology in the Ancient Near East regarding snakes and snake gods that wielded great and awesome power. Hence, the Israelites would have been working from a familiar story with a god working through the power of the serpent. They “knew” the story of the saving nature of the serpent, or so they thought. But still, with all the other things I know about God protecting the Israelites from their own shortsightedness, it doesn’t make sense to me to have an idol nearby that could lead them astray.

The other part of the reason I can’t ignore or put off these passages is my sense that there’s something more in God’s plan regarding the snake idol; otherwise it wouldn’t have shown up in John’s gospel. There we see the snake idol passage used to introduce the passage about Nicodemus today. I think Nicodemus’ story is the key to my understanding today – something in that passage about Nicodemus and Jesus’ interaction is the message that God has in store for me and hopefully for us all. Some scholars have postulated that Jesus’ statement to Nicodemus is a challenge to Nicodemus to change his view of what God and the Messiah might be, to open his eyes to a new understanding of the Christ. Nicodemus believes he knows what the Messiah will do and be – he’s assured by his training and education, he’s self-reliant. By the end of today’s gospel we see Nicodemus realize that his preconception was flawed, he really didn’t know what it meant to live a life where his mind was open to the workings of God. Nicodemus is called to have an open mind about the power of God.

Now the snake story starts to become clearer. The story isn’t about the idol per se; it’s about the power of God working in ways that God wants, not the way that we expect. It’s not clear what the Israelites think about God in their time but the writer shows them as people who were fairly headstrong and self-reliant in their understanding of what is right and necessary for them as opposed to trusting in the things that God was already providing for them. Thus, God’s action in Numbers took something that was “known” and translated it into something miraculous – something that really showed what God is capable of. God’s power can now be understood in a new way.

How my eyes have been opened by this revelation. It was almost like God was talking directly to me. I don’t know how many of you know but things are not anywhere near peaceful on campus these days what with layoffs, the loss of beloved staff, and stories of hard times for priests and graduating seniors all across the country. And there has been much personal turmoil over all of this and more. However, what has become clear to me through all this is that I need to open my eyes to the message that God is sending me each and every day in scripture and in community. I’m starting to understand that if I keep my view closed to new potential I’ll be “left behind” or not fully find my way with God. I now realize (again) that I don’t need to and probably won’t get “it” right without changing my view to see God anew in and around me.

How does this apply to us, right here and right now? We are almost smack dab in the middle of Lent. Remembering back to Ash Wednesday we are called to practice repentance (BCP pg. 265). It may not be obvious but these passages tell me a story about repentance, at least as illuminated by a philosopher named Hammond who said: “repentance is a change of mind, or conversion of sin to God.” It is in our repentance, our changing of our mind to be more like God that we better understand God’s active participation in our lives, both individually and communally. Now is the perfect time to hear stories about God’s power working in unexpected and “untraditional” ways.

I think these stories appear in our communal life at this exact time for a reason. In this Lenten season we are being challenged to look at our lives afresh and anew. We need to ask ourselves: Where we are being challenged to convert ourselves to the mind of God both individually and corporately? Where are we being made anew in our vision of God at work in and through us? How are we being challenged to move from self-reliance to reliance on the grace-filled nature of God?

We can either try to imagine a God that we know and control and probably get frustrated along the way. We can imagine a God that is totally different than we ever knew before and probably end up not finding God’s presence her and now. Or else we can reshape our vision to see God working in and around us in an “old place” and in an amazing way. My prayer today is that we continue to convert our minds from sin to God and continue on our path to Easter this year, being open to a living, dynamic, and self-changing relationship with God.

Amen.

Ash Wednesday Reflection...

February 25, 2009
Ash Wednesday
Virginia Theological Seminary

Silence… We are often called to enter into silence like it is something that is wholly therapeutic and recharging. So why do we run from silence like it is a demon?

Maybe we should look at entering silence, not as something that takes us away from the comforts of the noise that populates our lives but rather as an invitation to a place where clarity of thought resides. Many fear silence but why would that be the case?

When we enter silence we do so with trepidation and misunderstanding. Why might that be? Maybe we are carrying too much with us when we enter silence. Maybe we need to lighten our load to better enjoy the silence.

Christ gave specific directions about little but when it came to entering silence, he was specific: shut the door (don’t leave it ajar) and be alone with God. We were told to leave everything else outside and enter retreat with God.

Questions for reflection:

• What does it mean to me to enter into silence?
• How is my search for silence punctuated?
• Where is the noise that invades my silence (and there will be noise)?
• Where does the noise come from?
• What do I do about the noise?

1. I can fight it (and probably lose).
2. I can enjoy it for what it is.
3. I can co-opt it to move from the noise to silence.

How do I lighten my load as I enter into silence and contemplation?

Within the Labyrinth...

Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One Have mercy upon us
Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One Have mercy upon us
Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One Grant us thy peace

What does it mean to have the peace of God?

• To be an agent of change
• To possess a lightness of spirit
• To sense God’s presence
• To have an awareness of others

Holy God, Holy and Mighty, Holy Immortal One

How do we share God’s peace?

How is silence affiliated with peace?

Observation: It’s hard to slide when you’re on the path of God