The scripture appointed for today can be found here--note, we are using track 2
Also, please note, this sermon was written in a week where the sitting President used twitter to threaten unprecedented violence against North Korea (implied nuclear holocaust); and white supremacists descended upon the University of Virginia campus in Charlottesville, VA, carrying torches, instilling terror, and attacking counter-protesters.
Here we are.
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Gale
Force Winds
You are not walking on the
lake like Peter
but on another sea, for this
world is a sea;
Trials its waves,
temptations its storms,
and men devouring each other
as fishes do.
Don't be afraid, step out
stoutly lest you sink.
When the gale blows and the
waves rise,
and your weakness makes you
fear you will be lost,
cry out, 'Lord, I am
sinking,'
and he who bade you walk
will not let you perish.
-Augustine of Hippo 354-430
Lord, I am sinking.
I read the paper.
I listen to the news.
And, the fishes who are men
devour each other.
Lord, I am sinking.
And, the wind over the
waters throws salt into the air.
And, the waves crash.
And, the water rises.
Lord, I am sinking.
And the air is hot and hard
to breathe.
And, the meteorologists draw
arrows and swirls as some storm or another threatens.
Do not let me perish.
Do not let us perish.
Do not let the chaos that
overwhelms become the chaos that devours.
Let this be the chaos
preceding a new creation.
Where we speak of war, may
you O God speak of peace.
Where we speak of fear, may
you O God speak of faith.
Where we speak lies, may you
O God, speak your truth.
Where the pounding of boots
instills terror, may the feet that bring the good news instill hope!
May we, we the people of St.
Clement’s be the feet that bring the good news.
The Good news of peace, of
faith, and of truth.
The good news that defies
the powers of evil in this world, that defies the powers of evil made manifest
in acts of hatred, racism and bigotry.
The good news, carried by
the feet that show up, speak up, and wake the dead in Spirit to a new life
lived in love.
The good news, that we are
not alone in this boat.
The good news that while the
wind may be against us, that Christ is for us.
The good news that this
moment is not the end.
When I served as a pediatric
chaplain, parents would ask me if I had ever seen miracles happen--the blind
see, the lame walk, the dead live. They would reach out their hand in hope that
I would reach out mine and save them from sinking beneath the waves. Bold
enough to step out of the boat, scared enough to turn to a stranger become a
sign.
A sign of God’s presence in
the wind-swept sea. A sign that there was more to this than this. That the
beeping, that the wailing, and the weeping would give way to another day. Of
breath. Of hope. Of laughter.
And, so they reached and I
reached.
And, our hands would meet.
In the boat. Together.
Akin to Christ we were, all
of us, the hospital room adrift in an endless sea.
Forsakenness held at bay by
the miracle of us, still standing.
Have you ever seen a
miracle?
In fear, faith. In darkness,
light. In war, peace.
Have you ever seen a
miracle?
From the 2004 interview of
the last surviving participant in the Christmas Truce of 1914
“'I remember the silence, the eerie
sound of silence,' he said. 'Only the guards were on duty. We all went outside
the farm buildings and just stood listening. And, of course, thinking of people
back home. All I'd heard for two months in the trenches was the hissing,
cracking and whining of bullets in flight, machinegun fire and distant German
voices. 'But there was a dead silence that morning, right across the land as
far as you could see. We shouted "Merry Christmas", even though
nobody felt merry. The silence ended early in the afternoon and the killing
started again. It was a short peace in a terrible war. ’”
A short peace, yet there it was,
Christ proclaimed in the midst of war.
And, isn’t that where Christ is
born?
In the middle of our need, our
fear. Entering the boat to silence the storm.
And, in with Jesus the Christ in
our midst, we worship.
We worship the God, the God who shows
up in our worst moments and our worst hours. The God who shows up in the
streets, and in our homes.
We worship the Son, the Son who
came away from the mountain so that he might reach out to us in our fear.
We worship the Spirit, the Spirit
that brings us together in this boat, in this place, in this time.
So that we will not be alone.
We will not be alone.
In this world that is a sea, we
will not be alone.
In this time of twitter threats and
nuclear powers, of lit torches and pepper spray. In this time when nothing
seems stable and everything is in flux.
In this time, look around, and witness
to the truth that we are not alone.
As we extend our hands, in peace,
and in hope.
We are not alone.
As we bend our knees, and lift your
voices.
We are not alone.
We share the fear and the faith.
The war and the peace.
The light and the dark.
We share this time together and in
this time we are asked to be as the disciples were—together. Together in the boat.
The boat that is an Episcopal
church in Charlottesville, Virginia, where the people sang as the torches
gather round.
The boat that is a raft of trees on
the slopes of Fonds Verrettes.
The boat that is Maxfield
Elementary School, where hungry children are fed so that they might learn.
This boat where we gather to
worship the Christ whose birth caused the angels to cry, “peace to God’s people
on earth!”.
This boat that carries us from
death, and fear, to life and faith.
This passage from the Gospel today
is an interlude between death and life. In entering the boat, the disciples had
left death behind on land to risk the storm at sea.
Because, on land, John the Baptist had
been senselessly felled by a capricious and power-hungry ruler.
On land, politics and powers, riots
and rulers, were defying God's love in pursuit of power,
On land, men were devouring each
other like fishes.
They left the land of death for the
sea of creation.
Where they rocked to and fro in a
little boat.
To and fro in the sea, where fear
of what could be, gave way to fear of what was,
Which gave way to worship of the
God who shows up.
Who shows up in the midst of chaos
and transforms that chaos into a new creation.
God’s new creation born in the
chaos of the sea. God’s new creation which will confront the organized systems
that seek to destroy the children of God. God’s new creation where death
becomes life.
And, knowing life without fear, the
disciples would be go from sea to land.
Bearing the truth of life, and
compassion in the face of death and oppression. A truth that would feed the
hungry, not with the blood of their enemies, but on the bread of life.
When the disciples return from the
sea, they will gather scarce bread and fish and follow the instruction to feed
the 5,000 who would gather in the midst of their fear.
And in this, they reach out their
hands as Christ had reached out his.
And, in this, they would not
perish.
So light the torches, we will overwhelm
them with the light of God. Arm the missiles and we will arm ourselves with the
peace of Christ. Threaten creation and we will usher in a new creation.
We will not forsake nor shall we
forsaken.
You are not walking on the
lake like Peter
but on another sea, for this
world is a sea;
Trials its waves,
temptations its storms,
and men devouring each other
as fishes do.
Don't be afraid, step out
stoutly lest you sink.
When the gale blows and the
waves rise,
and your weakness makes you
fear you will be lost,
cry out, 'Lord, I am
sinking,'
and he who bade you walk
will not let you perish.
Amen.
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