A few years ago I was talking with someone about some of the differences and similarities between the Episcopal liturgy and that of the Catholic church.  In the course of that conversation she said something I haven’t forgotten: “One of the things I don’t like in our church is that during the Lord’s Prayer we have to hold hands with the people on either side of us.  One day this dirty, smelly street guy came in late and sat right next to me.  I just about died because I knew that at the Our Father I was going to have to hold his hand.”

How sad that a person who claimed to be a Christian would find it repulsive to take the hand of someone who was not squeaky clean or dressed in his Sunday best clothing.  She saw him as untouchable.

As I said last week, Jesus was all about touching people.  Especially people who were not supposed to be touched.  In today’s gospel story we hear about one of the “untouchables.”

Who was this leper and how did he know about Jesus, who was just beginning his ministry?  It’s a deeply touching and yet mysterious story.  In approaching Jesus the leper was breaking a long-standing taboo.  For the Jews, to be a leper meant that one was being punished by God for his or her sinfulness.  Lepers were required to stay at least 50 feet away from others and they had to cry out, “Unclean, unclean!”   as a warning.  Being unclean, they were ostracized from their family and had to live somewhere out of the community.  They were, of course, forbidden to be part of the community of worshippers.

Yet this leper, at great risk,  approaches Jesus and kneels before him and begs him:  “If you choose, you can make me clean.”   If you choose. . .  Mark writes that Jesus was “moved with pity” and that he stretched out his hand and touched the untouchable leper, saying, “I do choose.  Be made clean.”   And the man’s leprosy left him and he was made clean.

Do you notice the irony in this story?  The leper was shunned because people believed that he was unclean.  Although they had no knowledge of disease or contagion they believed that those who touched a leper would themselves become one.  Yet Jesus touches him.  The irony here is that it is Jesus who is the contagious one.  The contagious love and healing nature of Jesus cured the leper and many others whom Jesus touched.

Even today, it’s not unusual for a person to feel unclean—not in the sense of a disease—but that they don’t deserve the loving touch of another human being.  To themselves they cry out, “I am unclean. . .unclean.”  Our world is full of people longing to be held, to be embraced, to be made clean and whole again.

I want to share a story with you.  One of the most memorable photographs taken during the Vietnam War captured a heartbreaking event.  It was a picture of a nine-year-old girl, completely naked, running with her arms out to her side, screaming in pain.  There were other children running with her, including her older brother, but it’s that one little girl who is seared into our memory.

That little girl’s back had been severely burned by napalm dropped on June 8, 1972 on her village, Trang Bang, by a South Vietnamese pilot.  He had been cleared to drop the napalm by an American named John Plummer, who had been assured there were no civilians in the area.

The child was burned so severely that it seemed unlikely that she would survive.  She spent more than a year in a Saigon hospital and endured seventeen surgeries.  Her body was forever scarred but she was finally able to return home.

John Plummer finished his tour and he went home too.  But his soul was as scarred as that little girl’s back.  He had seen the picture and because he had authorized the napalm drop he felt a painful stab of guilt every time he saw it.

The little girl in the picture was named Phan Thi Kim Phuc (fan tee kim fook).  Ten years after she was injured she became a Christian.  Later she was granted permission to study in Cuba where she met her husband.  While on their honeymoon they stopped in Canada for their plane to  refuel and they got off the plane and asked for political asylum.  They have lived in Canada ever since.

And John Plummer?  He became a Christian too, in 1990, eight years after Kim Phuc had converted.  He felt a call to ministry, went to seminary and became a Methodist pastor in Virginia.

In 1996 Plummer learned that Kim was scheduled to speak at the Vietnam Memorial in Washington, D.C., so he decided to attend.  At the ceremony he heard Kim say that she hoped to someday meet the pilot of the plane that dropped the napalm.  She wanted to offer him her forgiveness.

John asked an usher to tell her that the man who had authorized that attack was in the audience.  He later wrote an article for a newspaper where he related what happened next.  “She came toward me.  She saw my grief, my pain, my sorrow,”  he wrote, “She held out her arms and embraced me.  All I could say was ‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry’. . .over and over again.  At the same time she was saying, “It’s alright, it’s alright, I forgive, I forgive.”

In the context of today’s gospel lesson, he was saying, “If you choose, you can make me clean.” And she was saying,   “I do choose.  Be made clean.”

“If you choose, you can make me clean.”  That raises two questions: the first is, Who is it that you can make clean? Who is it who needs your embrace, your forgiveness and your love?

Think about that for a moment, because how you answer that for yourself might change that person’s life, just as John Plummer’s life was changed and his burden of guilt finally lifted.  You, too,  might be able to lift a burden that has weighed on another for years.  It might bring that person back from the brink of despair.  Who needs a kind word from you?  Who needs to hear you say, “It’s alright.  It’s alright.  I forgive.  I forgive.”

And so I challenge you to speak your words of forgiveness—your blessing—your words of love to someone who desperately needs to hear them.  I encourage you to tear down the wall that separates you from the other and to use those stones of resentment to build a bridge of love and forgiveness.

The second question is equally important.   If you’re feeling unclean, what would it take to make you clean?  For what do you want to be forgiven?  What guilt is weighing you down?  What shame is draining the joy from your days?  What fault is causing you to limp through life?  What are the scars on your soul?

Even if the person who can forgive you is no longer available, alive, or is  unwilling to forgive,  you can ask God to forgive you.  If you ask God, you can be assured of God’s forgiveness.  Then leave it in God’s hands.  The forgiveness from the other may not come immediately, if ever.  But you can be sure that God will honor your attempt to set things right.  You can be sure that when you approach Our Lord,  just as that leper did, and fall on your knees and say, “If you choose, you can make me clean”  that God will say, “I do choose.  Be made clean.”

And then, like the leper and like John Plummer, the leprosy scarring your heart will leave you and you will, indeed, be clean.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.

There’s a tiny, angelic woman from India named Mata Amritanandamayi who has touched the lives of millions of people.  Literally.  What she does, and has been doing for more than 30 years, is to hug people.  She is affectionately called “Amma” or “Mother.”  Her followers say she has embraced more than 20 million people all over the globe.

People line up for hours in order to be embraced by this extraordinary woman who wears a simple white sari.  She professes no religious orientation and represents no particular denomination.  She just hugs people.  It’s not unusual for her to meet and embrace people for 18 to 20 hours without a break.

Those who have been hugged by Amma say it’s an incredibly spiritual experience that is difficult to put into words.  One reporter said that when she embraced him she held him close to her and whispered in his ear, “My son, my son, my son, my son, love you, love you, love you, love you.”

On a typical day in India Amma will hug 15,000 people.  Many of them unwashed.  Many in rags.  Many who are sick.  Some people believe she is a holy woman who has been touched by God and who, in turn, passes God’s love on to as many people as she can.

I was reminded of Amma as I read today’s gospel story.  Like Jesus, Amma came from a poor family.  Like Jesus, people are attracted to her simple expression of love for all.  Like Jesus, she touches people.   Like Jesus, she opens her arms wide to all comers.

In his time, men and women did not embrace unless they were related.  Yet Jesus did the unthinkable.  He touched people.  More shockingly, he touched unclean lepers,  the poor, and most shocking—at least in the context of his time—he touched women to whom he was not related.  Jesus broke that taboo frequently.  There are at least a dozen cases in which Jesus either touches or is touched by others.

Mark’s gospel tells us that after leaving the synagogue where Jesus had cast out a demon, he went directly to the home of Simon and Andrew.  There is a house in Capernaum today which sits on a foundation next to the original site of the synagogue mentioned in today’s gospel.  Many scholars believe that it is the original location of Simon’s home. If that’s true, Jesus and his disciples may only have gone next-door to enter Simon’s house.

There, Jesus performed his first healing miracle.  Simon’s mother-in-law was sick with a fever.  Today, we wouldn’t worry too much about it.  Take some Tylenol and drink lots of fluids.  But in Jesus’ time a fever was something to be taken seriously.  People died from fevers.  Jesus took the sick woman’s hand in his and lifted her up.

The imagery here is important.  Jesus lifted her up from her sick bed and she was restored.  He did this for many other people in his ministry and so did his disciples.  Jesus himself was lifted up from the tomb following his death.  Jesus’ death and resurrection is the promise that we, too, will be lifted up at the end of our lives.

This first healing miracle was just the beginning.  People heard about what happened in the synagogue and probably some of the servants present at the event went out and told others about the miracle.

Then they flocked to Jesus by the hundreds: the sick, the lame, and the possessed.  And Mark tells us that Jesus cured many, many people. We can imagine how exhausting it would be to reach out to so many people.  Mark wrote that the whole city turned out to see Jesus.  He was surrounded by hundreds of people pressing in on him, calling out, begging for a chance to be healed.

Jesus realized that he needed a break—some time apart.  Time to rest.  Time to regain strength for the work ahead.  Without this time for rest and renewal Jesus would’ve been unable to meet the demands of the many who came in search of his healing touch.  So he sought out a quiet spot—a “deserted place” according to Mark, and there he prayed..

Apparently he didn’t have much time to be alone in prayer because Simon and the others went looking for him and when they found him they stated the obvious:  “Everyone is searching for you.”    And then Jesus knew it was time to move on.  His ministry was up and running.

I think we can learn a valuable lesson from Jesus’ example.  His ministry could only be effective to the extent that he took time for self-care.  There are so many people today who are working very hard to rear their families:  single moms and dads, working couples, grandparents and caregivers for the elderly and the infirm.  Sometimes, caregivers forget that they need self-care, too.  And, like Jesus, they need it on a regular basis.

Women are often portrayed as  “superwomen” who can do it all.  They work full-time at a job, then come home to cook the family meal, help the children with their homework, do the household chores and finally fall into bed, exhausted and knowing that the next day they get to do it all over again.

Men are often portrayed as  “workaholics”, putting job before family in their efforts to get ahead, earn more, and provide for their families and to raise their standard of living or just to keep the wheels turning.

Try this exercise:  In your own mind, rank-order the three most important people, things or aspects of your life.  In a company where I used to work we did this exercise in a class on time-management.  Most of the people listed “God”, “church”, “spirituality” or “family” as the first and second most important.  Usually their job was ranked third.  Yet, when we calculated how many hours a week we spent in each of those areas it was always “work” that represented how the most time in a given week was spent.

Even Amma, the hugger, needs to take a break now and then for a little rest and refreshment.  And we need to follow Jesus’ example and be sure we give ourselves the time and space for self-care. . .for being the caregivers of our own bodies and souls.  If we don’t, we can’t be very effective in healing and caring for others.

You know, Jesus didn’t try to take care of every single person.  He knew the importance of doing what he could, then moving on and taking his message to new areas and new people.  Jesus sets the example of a caregiver taking care of himself.

Back in 1989 Steven Covey published his best-seller, Seven Habits of Highly Successful People.  You may have read it, but just in case you haven’t, here are the seven habits.  Think about your own habits and how Jesus incorporated these very same ideas into his ministry 2,000 years before they were published:

Be proactive.  Being proactive means taking responsibility for all the aspects of your life.  If you’re reactive instead of proactive you tend to blame people and circumstances for the obstacles or problems you face.  Jesus was not reactive, but was proactive in his responses to the challenges he faced.

Begin with the end in mind.  Covey recommends formulating a “Personal Mission” to document and formalize your perception of life and why you’re here.  Jesus certainly did that throughout his ministry.  He was clear about what the Father was calling him to do.

Put first things first.  What’s the “first, first step” you need to take? Nothing happens without that first step.  What are the benchmarks that will tell you you’re on the right path?  Jesus knew that his ministry was to the poor, the sick and the marginalized of his time.  He knew that every teaching and every healing took him inexorably toward his mission on earth.

Think win/win.  This is a mental attitude that looks for solutions that satisfy the needs of self as well as others.  Jesus didn’t judge people very much.  He always told the truth about how to attain the kingdom of God.

Seek first to understand, then to be understood.  This is right out of the prayer of St. Francis of Assisi.  Listening from the heart as well as with the ears leads to understanding.  Jesus understood people.  And he always sought ways to be understood through the use of his many parables and stories.

Synergize.   In addition to working together, synergize means to value differences, to build on divergent strengths.  Certainly, Jesus must have seen gifts that each of the apostles possessed and he prepared them for their ministries throughout his time with them.

Sharpen the saw.  This focuses on the need to sharpen the mind and the body through carefully chosen times for retreat, rest and renewal.

That last habit is relevant to us in the context of Mark’s gospel.  Jesus models for us a balance of life and work.  He frequently sought out those quiet places away from the crowd to rest and recharge his batteries.  It’s something that many of us know we ought to do but that few of us are wise enough to practice.

Paul wrote that he had become “all things to all people.”  That worked for Paul in his time, but it won’t work for us.  A business colleague of mine once remarked, “If you try to be all things to all people, you can’t be anything special to anyone in particular.”

May our prayer today be that God will grant us the ability to see the work God has given us to do, the strength to do it, and the wisdom to take time for prayer, rest, and renewal.

We owe it to ourselves to do so, but more importantly, we owe it to God so that we can carry out the mission that God is calling us to discover and pursue in our lives, our work, and our church.

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

One of my fondest memories from childhood was going fishing with my mother.  She loved fishing and she was really successful at it.  She seemed to have a sixth sense when it came to fish.  Standing on the shore of just about any lake, pond or river, she could tell you where the fish were likely to be, the kind of bait that would work and how deep to set it.

Now my mom had something else going for her.  She completely believed that she was able to communicate with fish.  Today I guess you’d call her a “fish whisperer.”  I know that sounds bizarre but my mother actually believed that the real secret to catching fish was to talk to them and persuade them to sample her bait.  So, when we went fishing my mother would cast out her line, then sit on the bank and talk out-loud to the fish, encouraging them to come around and take a nibble of her delicious bait.  As a child, you don’t think there’s anything particularly strange about that kind of behavior.  I only knew my mom could catch fish when nobody else could.

What I didn’t realize until I was a little older was that there was an additional benefit to her unusual method.  When other fishermen wandered over to where we were fishing and heard my mother talking to the fish, they tended to avoid her.  That meant fewer lines in the water where we were fishing.  You might think her methods were pretty high on the weirdness scale but you couldn’t argue with the results.  Most Friday nights our Catholic family sat down to fresh fish that my Mom had literally talked out of the water!

Mark’s gospel story today is about men who caught fish for their livelihoods.  They would soon become disciples who would catch people—for their eternal livelihoods.

That day might well have been a typical one for Simon and his brother, Andrew.  They would’ve been casting their nets since before dawn and maybe the fishing had been good—maybe not.  It was hard, boring work.  And they had been doing it most of their lives since they were old enough to go out on the water.  They probably passed time talking about things fishermen—and brothers—talk about:  the weather, fish, their wives, fish.

At some point they noticed the man on the shore and they heard him call out to them:  “Follow me and I will make you fish for people!”   You can imagine the two brothers years later, recalling that day when Jesus called out to them.  Peter might say, “Do you realize what we did?  We climbed out of a perfectly good, fully equipped boat to follow a man whom we had never set eyes on before and knew nothing about!”  And maybe they would chuckle at their gullibility and thank God once again for their foolish choice to follow Him.

Two more fishermen-brothers were called that day and their leaving was painful.  John and James had come into shore about the same time that Simon, Peter and most of the other fishermen had returned.

They worked for their father, who had a big fishing operation and even had hired crew to work the boats.  And even though they were Zebedee’s sons, John and James had to take their turn mending the nets, just as they had done since boyhood.

They saw their friends, Simon and Andrew walking along the beach with a third man whom they did not recognize.  When the three of them got close the stranger called to them and they felt an overpowering urge to follow.  They simply got out of their boat and waded through the surf, walking away from their father who must have been dumfounded to see his grown sons abandoning their boat.  But they would never go back to fishing for fish again and a new work was about to begin.

It’s worth noting that Jesus said that the four fishermen and first disciples would be “catching” people.  He didn’t say, “I will teach you to form a church growth committee”  or “…from now on you will put out a sign and people will start joining you.”  There’s something important about that word, “catch.”  It suggests that whatever you’re after (1) may not be very interested in being caught and (2) you have to put effort into the “catching” part of it.

In their previous lines of work as fishermen, Simon and Andrew, James and John threw their large nets into the water where they thought the fish ought to be.  They’d take any edible or marketable fish that happened to get swept up into their nets.  In one sense, they were fishing on the basis of hope:  hoping the fish were where they thought they were; hoping their nets would capture them.

Now, however, Jesus tells them they will be catching people.  But it would be some time before they were ready to do the kind of fishing Jesus was talking about.  They would travel miles and a few years with Jesus before their own ministries would begin.  It would be only later, on the occasion of Pentecost, that they would begin to truly “catch on” and “catch people”. . .going out to talk to them in each one’s own tongue, sharing the Good News about Jesus and inviting the people to “take a bite.”

If we apply this gospel metaphor to our own lives as modern Christians, what can we conclude?  We have to ask ourselves some challenging questions.  E.g., if we, like the disciples are supposed to be “catching people” to create God’s kingdom on earth, how do we go about that?

In what kinds of waters should we go fishing for people?  Where should we “drop our nets” or cast our lines?  What kind of “bait” should we put out there?  Will we be willing to actively work at people fishing or are we content to sit in the boat and troll, hoping to somehow snag one now and then?  Or, even worse, are we willing to just recline in the shade of apathy, content to wait until one of our “people fish” jumps up out of the water and says, “take me”, “take me” before we’re ready to invest any energy.  Or, are we so desperate to catch them that when we do get a nibble we try to set the hook too soon and actually frighten them away?

In order to live out our Baptismal Covenant to “seek and serve Christ in all persons” we must commit to turning the words and sentiments of mission and vision statements into action.  As someone once put it, we have to be willing to “convert brave words into crude deeds.”

In addition to being a good fisherwoman my mother was an alcoholic for most of her life.  When she finally found sobriety in her sixties she stopped fishing for fish and like the disciples, began fishing for people.  She dedicated the rest of her life to working with alcoholics, helping them to find sobriety.  God gave her five years to do that and she fished tenaciously, day and night, going wherever she needed to and doing whatever she could to help a fellow alcoholic stay sober.

I said last week that all beginnings must start with an ending.  Recently I came across a song titled “Sing Hey for the Carpenter” by John Bell of the Iona Community in Scotland.  This song is about the invitation Jesus is always sending out to us and the things we have to leave behind to follow him, just as the disciples did on that day so many years ago.

Here are the lyrics:

“Come with me, come wander, come welcome the world

Where strangers might smile or where stones may be hurled;

Come leave what you cling to, lay down what you clutch

And find, with hands empty, that hearts can hold much.

Sing ‘hey’ for the carpenter leaving his tools,

Sing ‘hey’ for the Pharisees leaving their rules,

Sing ‘hey’ for the fishermen leaving their nets,

Sing ‘hey’ for the people who leave their regrets.

Come walk in my comp’ny, come sleep by my side,

Come savor a lifestyle with nothing to hide;

Come sit at my table and eat with my friends,

Discovering that love which the world never ends.

Sing ‘hey’ for the carpenter leaving his tools,

Sing ‘hey’ for the Pharisees leaving their rules,

Sing ‘hey’ for the fishermen leaving their nets,

Sing ‘hey’ for the people who leave their regrets.”

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

With vibrant, original African music; dance routines; life-transforming stories, the tour is indicative of the new generation of leaders emerging out of Watoto.

“Through the choir’s Concert of Hope, we share a message of transformation by telling the story of Africa’s rescued orphans and women. We hope to reach out to audiences with the message of Christ’s healing power,” says Gary Skinner, Watoto Founder.

With its genuine appeal, accompanied by music and dance – an energetic fusion of contemporary gospel and traditional African rhythm – the globally acclaimed Watoto Children’s Choir has traveled internationally since 1994 as ambassadors for the millions of children in Africa, orphaned as a result of HIV/AIDS, war and poverty.

 Each of the children in the choir has suffered the loss of one or both parents. They live in Watoto Children’s Villages where they receive the care and nurture they need to grow up as productive citizens of their country.

 Since its inception, 49 choirs have traveled globally, providing the children with a bigger worldview, an unusual opportunity they would otherwise never get. The choirs have been to Australia, Brazil, Canada, China, Europe, Hong Kong, Japan, Taiwan and USA, among others. Their audiences have included royalty, presidents, ministers and the common people alike, capturing many hearts wherever they go.

Rev. Ebassa Berhanu

The psalm we just read together is one of the most beautiful in the entire Psalter.  To sum up this psalm in a short phrase we could say that God has known even before we were born. . .”knit together”. . .how we would turn out.

No matter where we are or what we’re doing, God’s hand is upon us: guiding us, touching us, tapping on our shoulders, always trying to get our attention.  God’s presence and action among us is inescapable.

If you’ve seen my emails you know that my signature is the Latin phrase, “Vocatus atque non vocatus Deus aderit”.  It means “Bidden or not bidden, God is always present.”  Carl Jung, one of the fathers of modern psychotherapy, had this Latin phrase carved in stone over the front door of his house in Zurich.  When he was asked about it, Jung said it was to remind himself and all those entering his home of a line from Psalm 111:  “Awe of the Lord is the beginning of Wisdom.”

Awe of the Lord.  That is the tone of Psalm 139.  We hear in its words the expression of an absolute awe of the Lord.  There’s no escaping God.  His Divine Reach is long and persistent.  After many years of ignoring and resisting God’s call to the priesthood, using all kinds of rationale that seemed perfectly reasonable to me, I finally concluded it was hopeless.

In the Star Trek television series there is an alien race that assimilates all that it encounters.  They are called the Borg and their mantra is, “Resistance is futile.”  In a way, God is very much like the Borg—resistance can be offered to Him, but, in the end, resistance to the call of God is futile.

Think about Samuel in that context.  In this narrative God calls to young Samuel, awakening him from sleep.  The boy thinks it’s old Eli, his guardian and the priest in the temple at Shiloh.  Yet, each time he responds to the voice, Eli sends him back to his bedroll.

Finally, Eli realizes that this is God calling Samuel and he instructs him to answer, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.”  Sometimes God calls in very dramatic ways, as Moses discovered when he came to the burning bush on the mountaintop.  At these times God’s call is quiet and persistent.

But make no mistake about it.  God’s call is constant, insistent, and directed to every living human.  This lesson reminds uis of God’s surrounding presence throughout our beginnings and endings.  All of life is about those two phenomena:  ends and beginnings.

God told Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle.”  The era of the judges and the reign of Eli’s oppressive priesthood would be ended and a new era of proclamation would begin through Samuel.

All beginnings must start with an ending of what has gone before.  God knows what the “somethings” are in our lives.  Our job, like Samuel’s, is to respond with Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.”

And when the Lord speaks, what does he say to us?  That brings us to today’s gospel story from John.  Prior to the part we heard today John, Andrew and Simon became followers of Jesus.  The second part of this story is about Philip and Nathaniel.

I really like what Philip did when he told Nathanael about Jesus–and was so soundly rebuffed–”Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” Do you remember how Philip responded? Did Philip pull out a brochure listing Nazareth’s good points? No! Did Philip say, “Nathanael, you’re way too negative–try looking on the bright side for a change?” No. Did Philip start an argument with Nathanael? No. Do you remember what Philip said? He said simply: “Come and see.”

“Come and see!” That sounds almost too simple, doesn’t it! But it worked. Nathanael came and saw. “Come and see.” That was an effective approach then–and it’s an effective approach today.

* We can’t ARGUE anyone into the kingdom of God–but we can say, “Come and see.”

* We can’t BRIBE anyone into the kingdom of God–but we can say, “Come and see.”

* We can’t SHAME anyone into the kingdom of God–but we can say, “Come and see.”

We need to have a “Come and see”mindset. Each one of us needs to become a “Come and See” minister. We have friends and neighbors and coworkers who need Christ. They don’t want to argue with us. They don’t want us to put them on the spot. But they very well might be open to an invitation to “Come and see.”

Herb Miller is a researcher who studies how churches grow. Miller’s research reinforces the idea that EACH of us has something special to contribute–and that it’s terribly important for ALL of us to be involved in the work of the church.

* Miller discovered that churches grow, in large measure, because members invite friends      to come to church with them.

* He found that people are far more likely to visit a church if invited by a friend or neighbor than if invited by the minister or priest.

* Miller found that 70 to 90 percent of the people who join any church come through the influence of a friend or relative.

* He found that, when people visit a church, the most effective way to get them to come back is to have a layperson make a short visit to the visitor’s home within 36 hours. The purpose of the visit is simply to acknowledge the visitors, to make them feel welcome, and to answer any questions that they might have.

* Miller found out that having a layperson make that visit was twice as effective as having the pastor do it. If the pastor made the visit, only forty percent of the people would come to church again. But, if a layperson made the visit, eighty-five percent would return.

If we all practice a ministry of “Come and See” than our little church will grow:

* It won’t have trouble finding people to teach Sunday school.

* It won’t have trouble finding people to sing in a choir.

* It won’t have trouble finding people to be lectors or acolytes

* It won’t have trouble finding people to sponsor a youth group.

If EACH of us responds to the call that God extends to us, the church will be able to do everything that it needs to do. We will have a dynamic, vital church that will change people’s lives. It will be a growing church–an exciting church–a wonderful place to worship and a wonderful place to serve.

But it’s tempting not to do that. It’s tempting to come to church only when we feel like it. It’s tempting to sit in the pew–and to sing the hymns–and to walk out the door–and to let that be the end of it. It’s tempting not to get involved–not to do any work for Christ–not to give any service. But, if we do that, the work which God calls us to do will remain undone.

That happens in churches all too often, and it’s tragic. There are so many things that the church could do that remain undone, because there is no one to do them.

That is not just a problem for the church. It is a problem for us, too. If Christ calls EACH of us to a particular service–and you can be sure that he does– it isn’t only the church that is diminished if we fail to serve. We are diminished too. We grow as Christians, in part, by serving Christ. If we go through life ignoring Christ’s call, we doom ourselves to living stunted, shriveled spiritual lives. Our service to Christ is a kind of spiritual food that feeds us. It’s a kind of spiritual exercise that makes us strong. We need to do the work to which Christ has called us: For Christ’s sake–for the church’s sake–for the sake of those whom we serve–and for our own sake as well.

As you go through this coming week, watch for opportunities to serve Christ. Watch for an opportunity to invite someone to visit our church. Watch for an opportunity to say, “Come and see.”

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

This evening we’re celebrating one of the great feast days of the liturgical year:  the Epiphany of the Lord.  In common language, if someone says she just had an “epiphany”, what she means is that a new insight or revelation just came to her “out of the blue”.  Some people refer to this as an “Aha!” moment, as when the apple fell and Newton was suddenly inspired with the idea of gravity.  Or when Archimedes settled in for a good soak in his bathtub and had a revelation about the displacement of water.

Cartoonists often illustrate these “epiphanies” by drawing a light bulb illuminating above the character’s head.  Have you ever had an “epiphany” in your life?  A time when you suddenly “got it” or when that light bulb lit up in your head?  Have you had that “Aha!” moment?

The word, “epiphany” means a manifestation—an “appearance” or “appearing.” That is the context used in the New Testament in terms of Christ’s “appearing” in judgment at the end of history.  The Savior who has been invisible since his ascension into heaven will be made manifest yet again.  It will be the great revelation, the great “Aha!”

In terms of our liturgical year, Epiphany in the Western Church tradition refers to the appearance of the star in the east, leading the Magi to the cradle of the Christ child.

It’s a story we’ve heard many times before, but it’s really about the end of a great journey when the wise men stop to see King Herod before making their way to Bethlehem, where they found Jesus and presented their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh.  Then the greatest story ever told really begins.

Those three gifts are the basis for the idea that there were three “kings”.

But the scriptures don’t tell us how many wise ones there were or whether they were royalty or not.  We also don’t get a sense of the magnitude of the journey made by those wise men.  In a sense, theirs was truly a “Star Trek”—going where no man had gone before. . .a voyage undertaken by strangers in a strange land who followed a star on a long and arduous journey of faith.

They were called Magi—those wise men from the East—who traveled to Jerusalem.  But who were they, really?  There’s actually very little revealed about them in scripture.  But we have no reason to think they did not exist.  They were probably members of a priestly caste of astronomers in ancient Persia, the land we know today as Iran.

The wise men tell Herod, “. . .we observed his star at it’s rising.”   Scholars have tried to identify the star the wise men were talking about.  Hailey’s Comet would’ve been visible in 11 B.C. and Jupiter and Saturn came together in an extraordinary alignment in 7 B.C.  Some scholars argue that the magi began their long journey many years before Jesus’ birth.

But it’s important to remember that they were not just on an astronomical or scientific quest.  They were conducting a Sacred Search.  They expected to find a king and that’s what scared Herod so badly.   They had rare gifts, fit for a king,  with them.  The gold symbolized the kingship of Jesus.  The frankincense represented his divine role of High Priest for all and the myrrh foretold his death, when it would be used in his burial wrappings.

Remember, too, that the Magi were not Jews—they were Gentiles.  Their presence in the scriptures foreshadows the mission Jesus would eventually give to His disciples:  “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations.”

What was it about that star. . .whatever it was. . .that was so compelling that it caused those Magi to go forth on such a long journey?  If they were, indeed, from Persia, their caravan of camels would’ve had to travel nearly 1,200 miles to Jerusalem, including crossing a great desert.  No one knows for sure when they began their journey or freom where, or what happened to them during the crossing.  We only get to meet them when they arrive at their destination:  Bethlehem.

The ancient symbol for Epiphany is light.  For Jews or Chrtians to be “in the light” was to be right with God, to be alive iin God.  We Christians have always called Jesus the “light of the world.”  It is Jesus who brings us into a right relationship with God and with one another.

The Magi followed the star from its rising.  For them, it marked the rising of a new king. Just as the Magi made the great journey of following the light of the star, their journey is our journey, too.  We follow the Christ Star—studying and seeking, following the light of the One who changes us forever whenever and wherever we encounter Him.  When we meet Christ on our journey, that encounter changes us just as surely as it changed the two disciples who met Jesus on the road to Emmaus.

Jesus walks with us on our life journey and He leads us into a deeper relationship with Himself, God Incarnate.   He is humanity’s bright star, lighting the path on our journey, just as He was the bright star for the Magi, illuminating God’s wide embrace and salvation for all who choose to walk with Him.

Once again, on this night of the Epiphany, we join the Magi in hailing a new King.  We embrace a new path.

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

“What’s in a Name?”

This is one of those infrequent but fortunate times on the calendar when New Year’s Day falls on a Sunday.  I like it.  There’s something especially good about beginning a New Year together in worship.

You know, for many years this day was called the Feast of the Circumcision,  because Mary and Joseph took their newborn to be circumcised on the eighth day after his birth, as was required by Mosaic law, and he was given the name of Jesus.  After the Reformation in Scotland the old church feasts were abandoned.  But, as usual, if people are deprived of something to which they’re deeply attached, they find other ways to compensate.  So the Feast of the Circumcision was transformed into a secular day of partying.

Now on New Year’s Day we observe the Feast of the Holy Name of Jesus.  This was new to the 1979 Book of Common Prayer.

We might ask ourselves, what’s in a name?  How were you named, after one of your parents or grandparents?  Certainly, to the first-century Jew there was nothing particularly noteworthy about the name, “Jesus.”  It would be similar to naming a boy Michael or Robert. . .popular, ordinary names.  Many male children were named Jesus, which derived from the Hebrew Joshua or Yehoshuah meaning “Yahweh is salvation”  or “Yahweh will save”;  the contemporary translation of “God is with us.”  In the Latino culture “Jesus”  is a fairly common name for a boy.

The word for God, “Ýahweh” appears as YHWH in the Bible.  It comes from a verb which means “to exist, to be.” This, plus its usage, shows that this name describes God as the independent and self-existent Supreme Being, the God of revelation and redemption.

There are 99 names for God in Scripture.  Among them are Elohim, the plural form of EL, meaning “strong one.”  Compounds of this include El Shaddai meaning God Almighty, El Elyon, meaning “The Most High God”  and El Olam, meaning “The Everlasting God.”

Other names for God include Adonai, meaning “master” or “owner” and the Greek words, Theos and Kurios, meaning “Lord” and “Master.”  Then, of course, we have the word for God with which we are all most familiar, “Father.”   The name of “Father” is primarily a New Testament word that reveals to us that through Christ, God becomes our personal Father.  The word is used in the Old Testament only 15 times, but “Father” is used in reference to God 245 times in the New Testament.

What’s in a name?  Since Jesus was given such a common name why do we, these 2,000 plus years later, have a special day of holy observance set aside to commemorate His name?  Clearly, because of who Jesus was. . .the Incarnate God. . .and who he was to become. . .the name of salvation for all humankind.

Look again at the Collect for today and you see that the name of Jesus is the “sign of our salvation.”  His name was destined to have great significance.  Let’s remember, too, that Mary and Joseph didn’t have to decide what to name their new baby.  It was God who named his only begotten Son and the Father gave him a common name.

Jesus was given a common name because he would grow up, live and work among the most common people, the poor and disenfranchised of the world in his time.  His name was not like those for God in the Old Testament…names that suggested tremendous power and majesty.  The key word connected to Jesus’ Hebrew name was “salvation.”

In Paul’s letter to the Philippians, the name of Jesus is held up to be something extraordinary.  Hear these words again:

“Therefore God also highly exalted him

And gave him the name that is above every name

So that at the name of Jesus every knee should bend

In heaven and on earth and under the earth. . .”

Fr. Anthony Clavier, recently with the Convocation of American Churches in Europe, spoke to the power and importance of the name of Jesus when he said, “He is ‘God with us.’”  He is the ‘Savior.’  And that means we belong to Jesus.  It doesn’t mean that he belongs to us.  That’s an important point to understand.  It is so easy for us to decide who we think Jesus  should love or save and who he should not.  However, he told us that such matters are none of our business. And that is that.

“We were named and signed in our baptisms. . .and as God is seen in the face of Jesus Christ, we are called to be Christ-like, or Christians.  In the midst of church struggles, divisions, and fights, ‘God help us!’ we exclaim.  And that is the point.  God seeks us, finds us, and helps us.  The name of Jesus. . .the Word. . .conjoins with bread and wine and transforms us into newness of life.”

The power of the name of Jesus. . .his descent from heaven to earth in the form of a human baby and his ascension back to heaven in the form of the resurrected Lord. . .is captured so well in hymn 435 in our hymnal, At the name of Jesus.”    When we sing this hymn today, pay special attention to these words in the fourth verse:

“Name him, Christians, name him, with love strong as death,

Name with awe and wonder and with bated breath;

He is God the savior, he is Christ the Lord,

Ever to be worshiped, trusted, and adored.”

Blessed be the Holy Name of Jesus, in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

One of the world’s most popular songs was recorded by Bing Crosby a very long time ago–in 1943.  I was only one year old!  It was titled, “I’ll Be Home For Christmas.”  Among the lyrics were these lines:

“Christmas Eve will find me

Where the love light gleams. . .”

You couldn’t ask for a more appropriate or fitting description of where everybody wants to be on this night:  home…where the love light gleams.  Maybe some of you here tonight have come from other places to be with your family for this Christmas.  There’s no denying that home and Christmas go together.

When we hear Luke’s gospel story about Joseph and Mary we’re told they had been called home—to Joseph’s home—where they had to register for a census ordered by Emperor Augustus.  They had traveled a far distance—nearly 85 miles Joseph walking and, for Mary, nine months pregnant, riding on a donkey.  They probably would’ve stayed with friends or relatives, but by the time they arrived all the guest rooms had been taken.  There was no room for them at the inn.

Luke places them at a manger.  The manger was a feeding trough for livestock and there the newborn Jesus was wrapped in bands of cloth.  The manger would’ve been in a stable, probably attached to or close to someone’s home.

Years ago, when Alex and Allie were small they attended a Montessori school.  I was invited to come tell the Christmas story to a group of about 40 children.  As I described the part where Mary and Joseph had to take shelter in a stable I paused, because after all, these were city kids and I wasn’t sure they knew what a stable was.  So I asked them and one little boy waved his hand enthusiastically.  He said, “A stable is that little metal thingy that holds paper together.”

In any case, Jesus was born in a very humble setting.  Sometimes we might feel sorry for this little family as they tried to find shelter for the evening, but we should also remember that they were coming home, too.  We can only wonder what Joseph and Mary thought as they looked at their new baby son lying there in a livestock trough.  Joseph was a skilled carpenter and probably would have built a very fine cradle for Jesus.  Maybe he was thinking about making a proper one for his little son as he gazed at him in such humble surroundings.  And Mary…I wonder what was going on in her mind?  She had been told she would give birth to the Son of God.  Yet here was a pretty normal looking newborn lying in his swaddling clothes.  Did she expect something unusual?  Did she think, “What now?”

Luke then shifts the scene to the shepherds who were tending their flocks.  We can imagine the pastoral scene—sheep scattered over the hillsides—a beautiful starlit night sky.  All was calm.  All was bright.  And then, instant terror.  The sudden appearance of an angel and a light brighter than any daytime sun.  And they became the first humans to hear the news of the birth of the Messiah.  They were eye witnesses to myriad angels filling the night sky and singing their Glorias to God.

These humble shepherds who would lay down their lives for their sheep if necessary, left those flocks and immediately went to find the newborn Messiah.  And having found him, they went out and told others what they had seen.  Thus, the world’s first evangelists began to spread the Good News.  The Christ. . .the Messiah. . .the Lord had come.

Jesus—the Savior of all humankind—was born among the poor and hardworking people of his time.  This King of Kings, Mighty Conqueror and Lord of All…God Incarnate…gave himself to us in a lowly shelter for animals and was attended by the most common people of his time.

Jesus came home.  He came to make his home among us so that he could then go to prepare an eternal home for us.  I think it’s important to remember tonight that five much-loved men from our St. Philip family went to their eternal home with God during this past year:  Bud Curtis,  Fr. Del Andrews,  Jim Morris, Mark Owens and J. F. Stewart.  Some of their family members are here with us tonight and I know they are missing them very much.   This first Christmas without them is especially hard, but we can be assured that because on this night so long ago Our Savior was born, that all those whom we love and who have gone to their eternal homes are there with God.  We will see them again.  They have gone home.

Home is a destination–the ultimate destination.

Walter Cronkite, the famous newscaster, put it this way:”Going home” has a meaning more poignant

than perhaps any other phrase in our language.

It is first spoken with true feeling

by the child just turned loose from his playpen….

His first crushing experience with disappointment…

brings a rushing torrent of emotion

that ends with a tiny voice piping: “I’m going home.”

Home is the sanctuary where the healing is.

(Walter Chronkite, Tributes to Home)

You may have seen a famous painting by Holman Hunt: he painted Christ knocking at a door. It is based on Revelation 3:20, where Christ says:

Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking;

if you hear my voice and open the door,

I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me.

When the artist showed that painting to friends, one pointed out an omission. “You have put no handle on the door.” Holman replied, “We must open the door–the handle is on the inside.”

My brothers and sister in Christ, this Christmas I invite you to:

* Open your heart to Christ, so that he may take up residence there.

* Open your heart to Christ, so that he might find a home within your heart.

* Open your heart to Christ, so that you might be a part of his family.

* Open your heart to Christ, so that he might dwell in you and you in him–forevermore.

May you truly be home for Christmas this night where the brightest love light gleams: in the peace and joy of the newborn Christ.

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

I wonder if any of you experience the season of Advent like I do.  Every year it seems these four weeks pass faster than they did the previous year.  Christmas, the celebration of Jesus’ birth, is only one week away!

When we’re children the time of Advent seems to move a lot more slowly than we’d like.  When Alex and Allison were a bit younger they’d eat a piece of chocolate from their Advent calendars every day and do their annual countdowns to Christmas.  I think they sometimes ate more than one piece a day, maybe hoping to speed up time!

We’ve all heard of courses in Time Management.  Maybe you’ve even participated in one.  I’ve even taught them in my past life as a corporate trainer.  But the truth is, we can’t really manage time.  We can only live in the present moment.  We have to look at the past through a rear-view mirror, disappearing behind us as we move toward an uncertain and unpredictable future which is out there in front somewhere and it largely unknown to us.

All of us have the same amount of time available to us—24 hours a day—and we can’t do anything to speed time up or slow it down.  But it’s also true that we have to live in God’s time.  There’s a name for that.  It’s called Kairos from the Greek.  Only God knows what lies in the future and only God knows what will happen to us as we move toward that future.  When you think about it, we really don’t have any choice but to trust God and to do our best in the present time in which we live.

I wonder, too, what Mary thought when the angel Gabriel appeared to her and revealed her future as planned out by God?  Mary, you know, was really just a kid.  Even so, she had been betrothed to Joseph.  If she was typical of the young women of her time, she was probably only about 14 or 15 years old when Gabriel showed up on that day so long ago.  Since her parents and Joseph’s parents were all faithful Jews, they would’ve done things in accordance with the Law and with Jewish custom.  The parents met and arranged the betrothal, which would last one year.  Any thoughts about personal choice and what the couple wanted were irrelevant.  Each of them would have continued to live in their respective parents’ homes for the year of the betrothal.

When a couple becomes engaged today they’re still not legally joined.  Either the woman or the man can break the engagement for any reason at all.  Not so in Mary’s time.  Once a betrothal was made official, Mary and Joseph were permanently and legally joined for life.  The only way they could break the engagement was if the prospective husband divorced his fiancée and even then it would have to be for a very serious reason, such as infidelity.  The betrothal was a very serious moral and legal contract.  To violate it would’ve brought great shame upon the families.

It is only in Luke’s gospel that we read this story about Gabriel and Mary.  Luke tells us that Gabriel was sent by God, that he came to a virgin named Mary in Nazareth, and that she was engaged to Joseph, who was of the house of David.  It was the sixth month, i.e., it was the sixth month of Elizabeth’s miraculous pregnancy.  If Jesus was born in late December (and that is highly unlikely), Gabriel would’ve appeared to Mary sometime in April.

There is no description of Gabriel.  He might have appeared in the person of a young man of that time or an elderly man or even a woman.  We just don’t know.  But the words that Gabriel spoke were at first puzzling to Mary, then probably both amazing and frightening.  Imagine a 14 or 15 year old girl like Mary being told that she was going to become pregnant.

Did you notice that Mary wasn’t approached by Gabriel with a suggestion or a proposal?  She was simply told what was going to happen to her.  At that moment Mary entered God’s time—Kairos—and God’s plan.  The angel tells her that she had found favor with God.  In the context of her time, to be a “favored one” was to be blessed by God and chosen for a special role.

I wonder what was going on in her mind at that moment.  What questions might run through a teenaged girl’s head—a girl already betrothed but still a virgin?

“What will my parents think of me?”

“And Joseph—will he divorce me when he finds out I am pregnant?”

“Who’s going to believe me?”

“Will I be dragged into the village street and stoned to death?”

Those questions never made it into Luke’s gospel but surely there were concerns like these that weighed heavy on Mary’s heart.  She only asks one question:  “How can this be since I am a virgin?”

Gabriel explains that the Holy Spirit will make his possible and that her child will be the Son of God.  That probably only added to her puzzlement.  Did Mary have a choice?  Could she have declined?

Mary is the only one in the history of the world who was faced with such a monumental and historic choice.  Her answer to Gabriel revealed a deep and profound character and faith:  “Here am I, the servant of the Lord; let it be with me according to your word.”

In the orthodox Church Mary is called “Theotokos”—Greek for “God-Bearer,” the one who decided to carry, give birth to, nurse, and to raise the Son of God.  She became the one who carried our Savior for nine months.  And she was with him at the end of his life, her heart broken with grief.

It’s difficult for us to appreciate, these 2,000 plus years later, the burden and the blessing that had just been placed on the shoulders of this young Jewish woman.  But she called herself a servant of the Lord and she accepted the awesome and wonderful weight and responsibility that God had given her to carry.

And so Mary’s period of waiting began.  Waiting in human time. . .waiting in God’s Kairos time. . .anticipating the greatest event in the history of the world.

I wonder if Mary’s story is not our story too?  We live with that same sense of anticipation every Advent season.  We remember that great miracle that still reaches across the centuries to us and moves missions of Christians throughout the world to look once again for the star in the East.

The Lutheran theologian Frederich Beuchner captured this sense of anticipation that we experience each year at this time.  He said:

“The house lights go off and the footlights come on.  Even the chattiest stop chattering as they wait in darkness for the curtain to rise.  In the orchestra pit the violin bows are poised.  The conductor raises her baton.

“In the silence of a midwinter dust there is far off in the deep woods somewhere a sound so faint that for all you can tell it may be only the sound of the silence itself.  You hold your breath. . .and listen.

“You walk up the steps to the front door.  The empty windows at either side of it tell you nothing, or almost nothing.  For a second you catch a whiff in the air of some fragrance that reminds you of a place you’ve never been and a time you have no words for.  You are aware of the beating of your heart.

“The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens.

“Advent is the name of that moment.”

The waiting is almost over.

The Great Drams is about to unfold again.

O come. . .O come, Emmanuel!

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