We are a small Episcopal Church on the banks of the Rappahannock in Port Royal, Virginia. We acknowledge that we gather on the traditional land of the first people of Port Royal, the Nandtaughtacund, and we respect and honor with gratitude the land itself, the legacy of the ancestors, and the life of the Rappahannock Tribe. Our mission statement is to do God’s Will in all that we do.

Sermons

Forgiveness over two Sundays, two ministers

The Gospel passages from Sept 10 and 17, 2023 work well together as demonstrated by Tom’s (Sept 10) and Catherine’s (Sept 17) sermons.   Both were about forgiveness and mostly the failure to practice it. And both used the same symbol – an inflated beachball that had to be held underwater which symbolized the lack of forgiveness.

Video Links – 1 The Rev. Tom Hughes (Sept 10)
2.The Rev. Catherine Hicks (Sept 17)

Tom preached that forgiveness is one of the critical issues of life. Without it, you limit yourself and are constantly frustrated. It derails your life in God. It keeps you in the past and keeps you from flourishing in the present and future. It keeps a hold on you – chaos is the only winner in that situation. It keeps you from loving God.

Forgiveness is an important place to start creating a new life and living in a different way.  New life is part of  the Season of Creation which we are celebrating.

Tom brought up a metaphor of a beachball that you are being forced to hold underwater.  You can’t do anything else -your hands are occupied. That’s the case of not forgiving.

If we expect God to forgive us we have to be open to forgive others.  In many cases, we are not prepared to receive it. We cannot understand it If  we hold out on our unforgiveness to others who have hurt us.

Tom described his method for forgiveness. Go find a quiet place and go over every detail of the “crummy’ incident = what is haunting us, where you have been wronged or have wronged others. Finally, you pray “O Lord take this from me.” I will not think of it again. It is done with. I forgive and let go and accept and give forgiveness.

Tom believes it is important both to forgive and forget to restore your life. Both you and the other person are set free though you may have to repeat this process more than once to be truly effective.

On Sept. 17, Catherine described the Gospel story where a slave fails to practice forgiveness. “In today’s gospel, Jesus tells a story about a king who forgave a slave in tremendous debt to the king. That slave, having been forgiven his debt, went out and refused to forgive one of his fellows who owed him money.  In fact, the forgiven slave had the person in debt to him thrown into jail until the man could pay his debt to the slave the king had so generously forgiven.     

“The others who witnessed all of this went and told the king, who called the forgiven slave in.  The king said, “You wicked slave!  I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me.  Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?”

“And the king hands over the slave to be tortured until he pays his original debt.  And then comes this zinger from Jesus.  “So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”  That is, we suffer the consequences when we continue to be unforgiving people.  

“So I’m wondering—are there, in the end, limits to God’s limitless mercy?  The answer to that question is yes, there are limits to God’s mercy—the limits to that mercy that we create through the exercise of our own free will. 

“So let’s do a thought experiment.  Go back to Tom’s beach ball image for a moment.  Imagine that you are at the beach in the water, right beyond the breakers, holding down the ball under the water. 

“Jesus comes walking by, sees what is going on, wades out to you and says, “Hey, let me hold that beach ball underwater for you.”  You gratefully agree because you’re tired,  and you hand Jesus the beach ball.  Jesus holds the ball underwater for a minute with you still standing there, amazed that someone would do this for you. 

“And then Jesus laughs and says, “Listen,  there’s something I’d love to do for you.   I’m going to free you from this ball forever so you can go live your life. Is that ok with you?” You reluctantly agree.     Jesus takes the ball and hurls it far out into the ocean, and the currents quickly carry it out to sea.

“For a moment you are relieved, but then you think to yourself, “Wait, I can’t let that ball go! What am I going to do if I can’t hold this ball underwater?”    You ignore Jesus, who continues to stand next to you, hoping that you will go with him back to shore,  and you start swimming out toward the ball.   Jesus stands there in the water weeping, as you swim far, far out into the ocean, swimming after the ball that was already robbing you of life, and ultimately you drown. 

“What ball are you chasing today that Jesus has ALREADY taken away from you?  What is it that you can’t forgive or let go, that you keep taking back, even though you have been forgiven and freed by God and by others for your sins toward them over and over and over? 

“The unforgiveness that you hold onto, the unforgiveness toward others or even toward yourself that you keep holding onto because you think you can’t live without it, because it’s become such a part of you,  is going to kill you in the end.

“Here’s the good news.  No matter how many times we take that ball out into the ocean and try to hold it underwater, Jesus will come out to us and offer to take the ball away.  Seventy times seven, and then on and on, through infinity.  In that way, God’s forgiveness is limitless

“As St Augustine says, “Sins that have been forgiven return when there is no brotherly love.”  And that is the whole point of this story.   Our sins return because WE keep making space for them, and even actively taking them back, even after we’ve been freed of them, when we choose not to forgive and to love one another from our hearts.   

“Paul asks the people of the church in Rome, “Why do you pass judgment on your brother or sister?  Or you, why do you despise your brother or sister?  For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God.” We all stand before the judgment seat of God all the time.  Jesus is next to us in the water all day long, hoping to take away that ball of unforgiveness that is distracting us and potentially killing us once and for all.

“Last week, Tom reminded us that when are tempted not to forgive someone or when we are tempted to continue carrying a grudge, to go to a quiet place and after thinking about all that has happened, let that thing go.  Yes!  

“Another important thing about these lessons is the reminder that once the ball is gone, we need to replace the ball with something else, or we will start longing for the ball again, because it’s what we know, and we’re comfortable with it, even if we don’t like it. 

 “Replace the thing you’ve released with praise for our almighty Lord, our healer, redeemer, our advocate, the one who loves us through eternity. And the one who frees us, once and for all, to live free, joyful, and loving lives.”

Sermon, Proper 19, Season of Creation 3

Psalm 103; Romans 14:1-12, Matthew 18:21-35

Practicing forgiveness is part of the art of  living fully, joyfully, and peacefully in this world.  Last week, Tom provided us with that unforgettable image of a person standing in the ocean trying to hold a beach ball under the water—and how that effort meant that the person was not free to do anything else.  Not forgiving, he pointed out, is like trying to hold that beach ball under the water. 

In today’s gospel, Jesus tells a story about a king who forgave a slave in tremendous debt to the king. That slave, having been forgiven his debt, went out and refused to forgive one of his fellows who owed him money.  In fact, the forgiven slave had the person in debt to him thrown into jail until the man could pay his debt to the slave the king had so generously forgiven.     

The others who witnessed all of this went and told the king, who called the forgiven slave in.  The king said, “You wicked slave!  I forgave you all that debt because you pleaded with me.  Should you not have had mercy on your fellow slave, as I had mercy on you?”

And the king hands over the slave to be tortured until he pays his original debt. 

And then comes this zinger from Jesus.

“So my heavenly Father will also do to every one of you, if you do not forgive your brother or sister from your heart.” 

That is, we suffer the consequences when we continue to be unforgiving people.  

So I’m wondering—are there, in the end, limits to God’s limitless mercy? 

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Sermon, Season of Creation I, Proper 17, Sept 3, 2023

Sermon, Season of Creation I, Proper 17, Year A 2023


The forests of Ethiopia. Page with links to both of the stories and videos.

“Lord, I love the house in which you dwell and the place where your glory abides,” states the psalmist. 

Jesus, who came and pitched his tent among us, lived among us, and died as one of us, dwelt on this earth. And when our hearts are open to God, we know that God has always lived among us.  Back in the Garden of Eden, in the very first book in our Bible, Genesis, God had a habit of walking in the garden in the cool of the evening. 

And in the closing book of the New Testament, Revelation, God once more comes and dwells among us, after ridding the earth of the evil that has held it in thrall for so long. 

“See,” the writer of Revelation proclaims, “See, the home of God is among mortals.  God will dwell with us and we will be God’s peoples, and God will be with us, and will wipe every tear from our eyes.  Death will be no more, mourning and crying and pain will be no more, for the first things have passed away.”  

So we live in the time of God with us now and not yet quite fully, knowing that truly, the earth itself is the house of the Lord, for God is not only transcendent and heavenly, but also immanent,  as near to us as the air we breathe, as refreshing and as life giving  to us as the water we drink, as restoring as the rain after a long drought, and as solid as the rocky mantle that supports the soil and all of life on this earth. 

Jesus came and dwelt among us so that we could see, with our own eyes, that God has always dwelt in our midst, on this earth, which is not only God’s footstool, but the very body of God, as theologian Sallie McFague would say.   We earth dwellers live and move and have our being within the body of God during our lives on this earth. 

And so, when we truly open our eyes, we can see for ourselves God’s glory abiding all around us. 

“Lord, I love the house in which you dwell and the place where your glory abides—” God’s glory, so intricately woven into the fabric of this earth and  the entire universe.    

So we rejoice in hope, even as we look around us and see God’s glory diminished by the ways in which we abuse and mistreat one another. 

Even when we look around and truly begin to see the ways in which we have been both intentionally and unintentionally oblivious and negligent, greedy,  and selfish in the ways in which we relate to God’s earth, still, we can rejoice in hope.

When Jesus told the disciples that they must take up their crosses and follow him, he was hopeful.  Jesus told the disciples that the next part of his journey would be difficult, and would include suffering and death—but that beyond the suffering and death was resurrection.   Jesus  was hopeful that the disciples could see beyond the  grim predictions of the “now” into the  hope of the resurrection life of the “not yet.”  This resurrection life included the time that they were spending with him, because in being with him they were learning about what resurrection life is in the here and now.  So when Jesus told the disciples that they must take up their crosses and follow him, he was hopeful that they would do so, despite the costs.

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Sermon, Proper 15, Aug 20, 2023

When I was in seminary, our professors did not hesitate to share their dislikes of certain hymns.  Our music professor, Bill Roberts, was outspoken over the fact that “Pass me not, O gentle Savior,” was not a favorite of his.

“Because,” Bill said, “Jesus would never pass anyone by.” 

Being passed by is awful and demoralizing.  Probably all of us can think of times in our lives when we felt ignored, passed by, or disregarded by others. 

But Jesus?  Would Jesus EVER pass us by? 

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Sermon, July 2, 2023, Pentecost 5

Sermon, Proper 8,  Year A 2023 

Psalm 89:1-4, 15-18, Romans 6: 12-23, Matthew 10:40-42

In a Native American legend recorded for You Tube by the Anasazi Foundation, a grandparent tells his grandchild about two wolves who are at war.   The grandparent describes the two wolves. 

One is a bad wolf full of anger, envy, jealousy, regret, resentment, judgement, bitterness, hate, spite, cruelty,  greed, self-pity, guilt, inferiority, lies, false pride, and ego.      

The other wolf, the good wolf, is full of peace, joy, hope, love, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence and generosity, empathy, truth, compassion, self-control, and faith. 

The grandparent places his hand on his grandchild’s shoulder.  “These two wolves are at war inside of me, and also inside of you, and every man, woman and child who walks this earth.” 

The grandchild thinks for a moment and then asks the grandparent, “Which wolf will win?” 

The grandparent replies, “The one you feed.” 

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Sermon, Epiphany, Jan. 6, 2023 – “Where should we be looking?”

The Holy Gospel of our Lord Jesus Christ, according to Matthew. 

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.” When King Herod heard this, he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him; and calling together all the chief priests and scribes of the people, he inquired of them where the Messiah was to be born. They told him, “In Bethlehem of Judea; for so it has been written by the prophet:

`And you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;

for from you shall come a ruler
who is to shepherd my people Israel.'”

Then Herod secretly called for the wise men and learned from them the exact time when the star had appeared. Then he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child; and when you have found him, bring me word so that I may also go and pay him homage.” When they had heard the king, they set out; and there, ahead of them, went the star that they had seen at its rising, until it stopped over the place where the child was. When they saw that the star had stopped, they were overwhelmed with joy. On entering the house, they saw the child with Mary his mother; and they knelt down and paid him homage. Then, opening their treasure chests, they offered him gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh. And having been warned in a dream not to return to Herod, they left for their own country by another road.

The gospel of the Lord. 

When the wise men arrived in Jerusalem after following the star across untold miles, they had only one question for King Herod. 

“Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?”

That question struck me as one that we should always be asking.

“Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews?”

“Where is our Lord and Savior in this world?” 

Where should we be looking? 

We don’t want to leave the wise men and their question about where to find Jesus trapped in the Gospel according to Matthew and largely forgotten after the Christmas season.

Because their question, “Where should we be looking?” is the question that informs our own journeys to God. 

The fact that the wise men saw a star that guided them reminds us that when we are on the lookout for Jesus, active and at work in our lives, we will receive signs, maybe not as dramatic as a star, but signs none the less! 

As I mentioned in the sermon on the last Sunday of Advent, these signs may be enigmatic, or the signs may be literal, but God will speak directly to us about where Jesus may be found in our world—and I won’t discount prophets and angels speaking to us, or even stars and other signs from God’s creation lighting the way. 

The places we find Jesus will probably be unexpected.  The wise men went to Herod, because they knew that Jesus was born the king of the Jews.  And yet, Jesus wasn’t in the halls of power, but with his parents in the small town of Bethlehem. 

This location would have been unexpected, except to those who had been watching for signs of the Messiah—the chief priests and scribes knew, for they had studied the prophets. 

What are the unexpected places we can look for Jesus?  (Ask what listeners think) 

I’d say that we can find Jesus wherever there is love.  The wise men found Jesus with his mother, who loved and cared for him.   Wherever people love and care for one another, Jesus is present. 

And when we find ourselves in his presence, we too want to kneel before Jesus in gratitude, and offer all that we have to him, to bring our gifts. 

The greatest gift we can offer is to become the signs of Jesus, present and active here and now, loving and caring for one another. We can bring love and care to those who have no care or love, and who so desperately need God’s visible presence with them. 

But sometimes, when we are suffering or in pain, or full of anxiety,  it’s hard to be a sign of Jesus, or to go looking for Jesus, or to realize that Jesus is already present with us.   

That’s when using our imaginations becomes essential.  In his meditation, Journey to the Heart of God, January 2, 2023, Richard Rohr, a Catholic theologian, says that “Imagination is largely a matter of being able to re-image life in new ways.  It is not to be caught or trapped in old images of hopelessness. When we’re trapped in old images, we keep living out of them, fighting against them, resisting them, and even saying they don’t work. But it seems we are incapable oftentimes of creating or even accepting new images and living out of those new images.”

Hopelessness can keep us from searching, imagining or knowing anything except hopelessness. 

And that’s the beauty of the Epiphany. 

When we are feeling hopeless, we can remember the wise men.   We can call them up in our minds.  We can see them on the horizon, following the star that God has sent, leading them who knows where.  We can imagine ourselves following after them, and we too will eventually find the beloved community where Jesus waits. 

For even if at times we must only imagine Jesus, because we are in pain or suffering, and he’s nowhere to be found,  in the imagining that we are with him, we can find hope and even joy and the peace that passes all understanding, the peace that keeps our hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God and of his Son, Jesus Christ our Lord—Jesus, who is alive, and sustaining and true, the one who loves us beyond even our greatest imagining.    

Sermon, Advent 4, Dec. 18, 2022 -“God with ALL of us for the good of all of us”

Sermon, Fourth Sunday of Advent, Year A 2022
Isaiah 7:10-16, Matthew 1:18-25

Fear is an awful thing. 

Fear can pounce, overwhelming us unexpectedly.  Fear can also be like a seed, planted in our minds, a seed that takes root and grows, and takes over our minds like one of those kudzu vines down south that grows out of control, covers everything in its  paths, and kills everything under it. 

We, too, must deal with the inevitable fears that come to us in this life, for if we do not, fear will take over and kill us. 

Dealing with fear can be next to impossible, though, for fear, once it takes root,  is so overwhelming. 

So here’s the good news in today’s gospel. 

God is with us, and God wants to help us deal with our fears.   Today’s lessons give us some examples. 

King Ahaz in today’s Old Testament reading is filled with fear. 

Ahaz is the king of a small nation, Judah.  His neighbors, Israel and Syria, are about to invade his nation to force him into an alliance with them so that he’ll have to join in their fight against Assyria, a powerful country that is threatening to  overwhelm all of the small nations around it. 

God knows that Ahaz is full of fear, and so God says, “Ask me for a sign.”   

God is telling Ahaz—”I am with you, Ahaz, and I will help you deal with your fear.” 

But Ahaz turns God down.  “No, I will not ask for a sign and put the Lord to the test,” he says. 

Then the prophet Isaiah says that even though Ahaz doesn’t want it, the Lord will give him a sign anyway. 

And the sign is that a young woman is with child and shall bear a son and will call him Immanuel, and that sign means “God with us.”    And before the baby grows up, the two nations that Ahaz is worried about will be deserted.  In other words, those two kings will be destroyed and Ahaz won’t have to fear them. 

But Ahaz chooses to ignore the sign from God and continues to let fear drive his decisions.  He turns to the king of Assyria for help, a bad plan, for in the end, Assyria brings Ahaz and Judah to ruin.  

If only Ahaz had only paid attention to God’s sign and acted accordingly! 

Then we come to Joseph in Matthew’s gospel.  Joseph has found out that Mary is pregnant.  And so Joseph is frightened.  He is caught in a great dilemma.  Break the law and take Mary as his wife anyway?  Let Mary go?  If he lets her go, her life will be in danger, for the penalty she might face for her pregnancy is death. 

What to do! 

Joseph decides to dismiss Mary quietly, hoping that she will not be exposed to public disgrace. 

But after he makes this mental resolve, God comes to Joseph in a dream.  The angel tells Joseph not to be afraid, because wouldn’t you be afraid if an angel showed up and started talking to you?

And then the angel gives Joseph a sign, the same one that Ahaz had received so long ago. 

A virgin will conceive and bear a son, whose name will be Emmanuel, God with us!

God with us. 

When we find ourselves full of fear, that’s the time to look for a sign from God, for God is with us in our fear, and we will get through the fear to the other side if we welcome God into the fear.      

But how do we receive signs from God when we are afraid? 

Prophets like Isaiah and angels like the one who appeared to Joseph in a dream seem to be in short supply these days, but we need not despair.  God still speaks to us in an infinite variety of ways, especially when we are full of fear, or facing an unexpected challenging situation.  God will speak to us in our fears and will sustain us as we deal with those fears. 

Some of you know Salli Hartman.  Her husband, Frank, died of ALS a few years ago.  Can you imagine the fear that Frank and Salli felt when the doctor told them that Frank had ALS?   What horrible news. 

So here’s what happened, and I’m sharing this with Salli’s permission.  As they both agonized over what was ahead, Salli received a sign from God, a curious and maybe unwanted at that moment sign, a sign about the future that would require trust in God and patience.   Within forty-eight hours of Frank’s diagnosis, Salli  felt a very clear call from God to become a deacon in the Episcopal Church.  But wait, she had to take care of Frank!  As time passed, though, Salli realized that this call to the diaconate was a sign that God would be with her through Frank’s illness and death, and that God had a plan for her and her life after Frank was gone.  That was a powerful sign!    Salli trusted in God and had patience with God’s timing.   Today, she is an ordained deacon and is serving at St Mary’s, over in Colonial Beach.   

Now here’s a literal sign from my own life.  Earlier this year, I had some tough decisions to make and just didn’t know how I’d manage to do what I felt God was asking me to do.  I was full of fear on many levels.

God provided signs about what I should do, and I won’t go into all of that because to tell you about how God’s grace has been in my life in so many ways this year would take hours.   But I want to share this one sign because it meant so much to me in the moment. 

One rainy cold night, I was driving and trying to deal with a series of alarming texts.   I pulled into a parking lot to answer the texts. And there, right in front of me in the window of the store where I had stopped was a hand painted wooden sign, and here’s what the sign said. 

“I can do all things through him who gives me strength.”  Philippians 4:13. 

That handpainted wooden sign was a literal sign from God.   What reassurance I felt. 

The person who painted that sign and put it in the window could have had no idea that I would see the sign and know that God was speaking directly to me. 

God has given me strength this past year. 

And God will give you strength too, in your greatest fears. 

The signs you receive from God may be enigmatic, or the signs may be literal, but God will speak directly to you—and I won’t discount prophets and angels speaking to you, even in our profane times.   

So the next time you find yourself full of fear, expect a sign from God that God is with you.  God will sustain you.  God will give you strength and courage to deal with your fears.    

There’s one other thing that I hope you’ll remember from today’s readings.  God is with us in our fears and gives us signs not just for our own benefit, but for the greater benefit to those around us and to the rest of the world. 

If Ahaz had paid attention to God’s sign and had resolved to wait on God rather than Assyria, the nation of Judah may have been saved rather than destroyed. 

Joseph paid attention to the sign God sent him, and in so doing raised the boy who would turn out to be the Savior of the world.

In this season of preparation, we get to remember all over again that  God gives all of us the same sign that God gave to Ahaz and to Joseph so long ago. 

“Look, the virgin will conceive and bear a son, and they will call his name Immanuel.”

God with us.

God with ALL of us for the good of all of us. 

God’s signs to us, when we receive them, allow us to be part of God’s eternal work of creating beginnings from endings, bringing life out of death, and making all things new. 

Sermon, Oct. 30, 2022 – Pentecost 21 – “Zacchaeus”

Who in here likes donuts?  I’d never given serious thought before to how doughnuts ended up having a hole in the middle,  but according to Bishop Douglas Fisher from The Diocese of Western Massachusetts, donuts date way back to Ireland and early Christian traditions there. 

For the Irish Christians, All Saints’ Day was a day on which prayers for all the saints were offered, and people had a feast to celebrate the day.  But many people in Ireland were too poor to put enough food on the table for their feast, and so the night before,on All Hollow’s Eve, they’d go out and knock on the doors of houses and beg for food.  As time went on, this practice evolved, and the beggars at the doors would promise to offer prayers for the dead on All Saints ‘Day in exchange for food. 

One woman wondered to herself—“Are these people I’m giving food to really remembering to pray for my dead relatives?” So she decided to start giving those who knocked on her door cakes with a hole in the middle.  The person eating the cake would get to the hole in the middle of the cake and remember to pray for the deceased. 

And so the donut was born. 

Who knows whether or not this is really how donuts came to be, but that’s a good story. 

Bishop Fisher connects this Halloween story of the donut to what happens in the story about Jesus and Zacchaeus. 

Zacchaeus was not only a tax collector, but a chief tax collector.  Zacchaeus was rich.    He had everything he needed and more than enough.  He could make as much money as he wanted at the expense of the people from whom he collected taxes.  The Roman oppressors, who ruled Palestine, hired people to collect the taxes, and in return, the tax collectors could collect whatever they wanted from the people in addition to the actual tax to pay themselves for doing their job.  So not only were the people having to pay taxes, but they were also having to pay whatever  the tax collectors demanded for themselves—talk about a corrupt system!

So certainly, Zacchaeus was not a popular person in his community by any stretch of the imagination.  

I can just hear the derisive laughter when this rich little man went racing through the streets, shedding his dignity out of his desperation to see who Jesus was,  trying to barge his way through the crowd, but I’m sure that no one in the crowd was about to let him get to the front to see anything. 

So Zacchaeus resorts to climbing a tree by the roadside (more laughter)  hoping that from that vantage point, he’ll be able to see Jesus.  The other advantage of being up in the tree is that Zacchaeus is now still, and waiting, rather than rushing and in a frenzy. 

So here comes Jesus down the road, surrounded by the crowd.  Zacchaeus holds his breath up in that tree.  Finally he is going to see this man he’s heard so much about.  Maybe he’s even mesmerized. 

Here’s what I love about this story.  Zacchaeus wanted to see Jesus, and he got more than he bargained for, because when Jesus saw Zacchaeus, Jesus saw more than a rich little man in a tree.

Jesus could see inside Zacchaeus. 

And what Jesus saw was that Zacchaeus had a big old hole in his heart, a hole so deep and wide that all the money in the world couldn’t fill it. 

And Jesus, being the healer that he was, did some open heart surgery to repair that hole in Zacchaeus’ heart right there on that dusty road when he said,

 “Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.” 

What healing grace and mercy this must have been—

Jesus saw Zacchaeus. 

Jesus knew his name. 

Jesus wanted to come to his house. 

The people in the crowd did not like this—that out of all of them around Jesus that day, Jesus would welcome the loser, the despised tax collector, the unclean one, instead of one of them. 

Jesus simply says to them that he has come to seek out and save the lost.  Jesus has come to do open heart surgery, to heal hearts, to repair and fill the holes that nothing else can fill. 

St Augustine described the hole in all our hearts when he wrote this famous line in his Confessions.  “You have made us for yourself, and our hearts are restless until they rest in thee.” 

That’s the God shaped hole in our hearts, that nothing else can fill.  No matter what we try to put in that hole—money, other people, hobbies, food, our addictions– all of these things will eventually let us down—nothing will ever fill that hole in our hearts except God. 

And as Jesus makes clear in this story, God is a big believer in second chances.  Clearly, Zacchaeus was a sinner—having taken advantage of his fellow citizens for his own gain. 

It’s as if Zacchaeus is knocking on Jesus’ door, begging, and when Jesus welcomes him in, Zacchaeus, out of gratitude, says that he will give half of what he has to the poor, and to go back and repay anyone he’s defrauded four times as much as he has taken. And Zacchaeus welcomes Jesus into his house. 

And his heart is healed and filled with the only thing that can satisfy his longing—his heart is filled with Jesus. 

The first verse of that old gospel hymn, “I love to tell the story” whose words were written by Katherine Hankey,  goes like this. 

“ I love to tell the story of unseen things above, of Jesus and His glory Of Jesus and his love, I love to tell the story, because I know it’s true, it satisfies my longings as nothing else would do.” 

So here is what I hope you’ll remember about this story of Jesus and Zacchaeus. 

Not a one of us is perfect.  We all need healing.  We all need second chances.  Jesus  sees us, full of hurt, full of holes, full of longing.  We all need open heart surgery.  

Zacchaeus reminds us to go in haste,  to climb up a tree if we must and  to  get still and wait for Jesus, because Jesus is coming down the road toward us, his hands full of healing love, ready to give us what we need—his acceptance, and his presence in our hearts. 

If we’re looking and waiting, Jesus will see us.  Jesus knows our names, and Jesus wants to come home with us today.  Jesus wants to fill that hole in our hearts.  Jesus wants to give us a second chance. 

And in gratitude for all that Jesus gives to us, may we go out and do likewise for one another—to accept one another, to fill one another with God’s love, and offer that second chance for those who have wronged us. 

Next time you eat a donut, remember Zacchaeus. 

Remember to pray for someone who needs your prayers when you get to the donut hole. 

And remember to pray that God will come and fill the hole in your heart. 

 

Sermon, Aug 28, 2022

Sermon, Proper 17, Year C, 2022 Proverbs 25: 6-7, Psalm 112, Luke 14:1, 7-14

“Supper at Emmaus”- Caravaggio

In today’s gospel, Jesus tells us about how we are to come to our true place in the reign of God and find ourselves seated at God’s “welcome table.”   

In this story, Jesus is eating a meal on the Sabbath with a leader of the Pharisees.  The first verse of this passage says that they were watching Jesus closely.   I’m assuming that “they” were the group of Pharisees who would have been invited to this meal.

Jesus watches the Pharisees take their places at the meal.  Where they sat was quite important, for the seating indicated where people stood within the group, who were the most honored, and who were the least important.    

The Pharisees were strict followers of Jewish tradition.  The more they followed the tradition, the better they considered themselves to be.    They judged one another on their accomplishments in the department of law keeping.  And those who were the best were the ones chosen to sit in the place of honor at banquets. 

Inevitably the Pharisees had come to believe that their relationships with God were determined by how well they kept the laws, and that they earned God’s favor by keeping God’s commandments.      

We fall into the same trap ourselves.  We try to live by God’s laws.  We try to love God and to care for others.  We are proud of our accomplishments.  We are proud of being good people.  But that proudness we develop can adversely affect our relationship with God, and with other people.    

Here’s an example.   Years ago, Easter Sunday had at last arrived at St George’s in Fredericksburg.  The scent of lilies filled the church, exquisitely arranged flowers delighted our eyes, the choir, accompanied by trumpets, sounded like a heavenly chorus—what a grand way to celebrate our Lord’s resurrection.   How proud I was to be there, proud of being a good Christian on this day, along with all the other good Christians who filled every pew. 

And then my rejoicing was interrupted.

For who should be the lector that day but a woman in our congregation who was well known for her struggles in life and who wasn’t the best reader either.   

I’m ashamed to admit that I thought to myself, “I can’t believe that she is reading on Easter Sunday of all days!  She isn’t worthy of that honor.  Someone who is better than she should be the one up there in front of all these people.  I am worthier than she is!  Why didn’t I get chosen to read today?”  And then I instantly felt guilty and ashamed for this proud thought. 

I have mulled over that incident many times in the years that have passed since then.  I had gotten caught up in trying to prove myself to God and to everyone else, trying to prove that I was worthy of a place of honor. I was trying to earn my way to God’s table.  I had not taken to heart the wisdom of what Jesus had to say in today’s gospel.     

Maybe the Pharisees who listened to Jesus that day took the parable he told literally.  Maybe at that very meal they had observed the host asking someone to move  so that someone more important could sit near the host.  And so Jesus underscored what they had all just seen by reminding them of the verse in Proverbs that says “It is better to be told, “Come up here,” than to be put lower at the table.  Who would want to be embarrassed in such a public way? 

But there’s more to the story Jesus tells than just what happens on the surface of the story.

Jesus is reminding those with ears to hear that our true place in God’s reign is not up to us.  No matter how hard we try, we cannot earn the seat of honor at the heavenly banquet, or even a place at all.   

Instead, our place at the table in God’s house is entirely up to God’s gracious love and mercy.  And we want to put forth our best effort out of gratitude for God’s gracious love and mercy at work in our lives.      

Instead of working on earning a place of honor, instead of trying to prove our worthiness, our assignment is simply to trust in the Lord instead of ourselves, to fear the Lord, to take delight in the Lord’s commandments, to be merciful and full of compassion, and to be generous and just, as today’s psalmist explains. 

Our assignment is to be humble, just like Jesus was in his life on earth. 

In his letter to the Philippians, Paul reminded his listeners that Jesus himself, God incarnate, did not cling to equality with God, but humbled himself, becoming a servant, and became obedient to death, even death on a cross. 

To be a follower of Jesus is to cultivate humility, and to be a servant to God and to those around us. 

Remember the parable Jesus told that we heard a few weeks ago, in which the watchful slaves are to be dressed for action and to have their lamps lit, to be like those who are waiting for their master to return from the wedding banquet, so that they may open the door for him as soon as he comes and knocks. 

And then when the master arrives, he blesses the alert slaves.  Just as Jesus did when he washed the feet of his disciples at the last supper, this master will come in, put on his apron, and have the servants sit down to eat, and the master will serve them! 

That is shocking, that God would choose to wait on us! 

And even more shocking, God invites everyone to the table, not just the worthy few who may, in the eyes of this world, be the deserving ones. 

Jesus reminds the Pharisees, and us, of that aspect of God’s unconditional love for all of us in the second half of today’s gospel, when he tells the host, “Next time, don’t invite the ones who can and will repay you.  Instead, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame and the blind.”  They can’t repay you.  But God, the only one who can bless us, will bless you because what you have done for those who cannot repay you have done for God. 

To offer this grace and mercy to all that is around us is not about earning God’s favor.  Offering grace and mercy to the other is an act of gratitude and thanksgiving to God—God, who loves us enough to welcome us to the table even when we are poor in spirit, even when we are crippled physically or spiritually or emotionally, even when we are too weak to get up and walk through another day, even when we can’t even see that God is right there before us, inviting us to God’s table, even when we struggle to be unselfish and hesitate to invite those who cannot repay us to come on in.      

So how are we to come to our true place in God’s reign? 

To humbly trust in the Lord instead of in ourselves and our accomplishments.   

And to live in gratitude by sharing God’s undeserved hospitality, knowing that God embraces all of us and all things in God’s great circle of love, and invites us all to God’s  welcome table.