While studying today’s gospel it occurred to me that there are really two themes to be absorbed here; one on the location of the sermon and the healings and the other on the “blessed” and the “woe” There are some outstanding differences between Luke’ account that we heard this morning and Matthew’s account. After doing research for this sermon I am pretty sure I could offer a seminar on the different and interplays between the two but you will be happy to know that I am focusing only on Luke’s version this morning.
First, we need to consider the geography of the place where this sermon is given. Luke’s version is often referred to as the “sermon on the plain” and so it is as we heard this morning that Jesus set about teaching on a “level place”. This level place was not just on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, it was a plain on a rise above the shore. It was also below some hills behind, much like we see in our area. That is because the Sea of Galilee is actually a broadening of the river Jordan and formed to some degree like this area was formed by the Connecticut River. The topography offered an are where it is easy for the human voice to be heard over a fairly long distance. So we have a large level area with a sort of bowl shape and with great acoustics. If you are old enough think Yazger’s farm the site of Woodstock. The other thing we need to know is that Tyre and Sidon had a good many gentiles living there. The population that had access to the area was moderately large and diverse. Jesus and a large number of his followers have just been on retreat up in hills surrounding this spot and Jesus has picked out the twelve followers that make up the core of his teachers. As they all come down from the hills they are met by a very large group of people who want healing and are looking for a good show. The level area offers a situation in whic everyone is on the level. No one is higher than their neighbor. The area is large enough that those who have been pushed to the margins, like lepers and those possessed and are unclean due to all kinds of legalistic reasons, still can see and hear what is going on. Now in this environment, what is the first thing tha Jesus sets out to do? Heal. The very first thin Jesus does is heal. Not just some but “he was healing everyone.” Not only that but he was healing both the one that he could touch and those who, though they could not reach him, were healed by a power that went out from him. When I was working for a living I had to study explosions. In that pursuit I and my fellow investigators would study ultra slow videos of explosions and we could watch the pressure wave as it moved out from the center of the explosion. You might have seen this in some action movies or documentaries about nuclear explosions in the Bikini Islands. When I think of the power of healing that went out from Jesus that is the picture that forms in my mind though not a wave of destruction but a wave of healing. So now we have a very large gathering of people all on a level field and all are now whole There is n margin. There are no outcasts. I have a hard time believing that Jesus didn’t understand and plan what was happening. If the kingdom was going to start it was going to start in just such a manner. While Jesus had already done many miracles and taught many ideas I think this was the start of God’s kingdom. Having now worked his way to the bottom of the bowl as he was healing the crowd, he lifts up his eyes and begins to preach. It is dead quiet and you can hear his voice no matter where you are standing. He doesn’t need to shout but can talk smoothly and warmly. The great “blessed are” and “woe to” are not spoken until all can hear. There are a lot of ways you can hear the beatitudes both today and when they were spoken. As I was growing up they became part of the check list for the great retirement plan after death. That list was very long but it was made pretty clear when this reading of Luke was preached that these blessed ways of being and especially the woes were on the list St. Peter had in his hand at the golden gates. I recently came across a quote from Brian McLaren in a Center for Action and Contemplation, (December 29, 2024) meditation and while he follows the pattern of Matthew’s beatitudes the same can be said of Luke. He wrote; “I’ve come to understand the Beatitudes as a way of saying something very different. The Beatitudes say, We, this new movement, bless the very people who are usually excluded. Jesus says, In this movement, we bless the poor and the poor in spirit. We bless those who mourn, we bless the meek or gentle, we bless those who hunger and thirst for justice. We bless the merciful and the pure in heart. We bless the peacemakers and those who are persecuted for standing up for justice. And then Jesus continues: We see the world differently because we bles people who are usually forgotten, despised, or excluded. That different way of seeing the worl leads to a different way of being in the world. Indeed it does. I think if we look at the woes through the same sort of lens we see less a condemnation of people and more a condemnation of selfish being If your focus is on being comfortable then you have comfort in your own little world instead of making your community comfortable with you. That selfishnes is its own reward. And if you focus on your own belly instead of the belly of your community, don’t be surprised that when you have needs, your community doesn’t come to your rescue. If you sit back at home enjoying what you have while others are anguishing over their troubles, don’t wonder why no one comes to help you in a time of grief or loss. And finally, if you are only looking for th adulation of those around you, abandoning the possible perception that you are a do gooder, forgetting what Jesus taught, then you will have let your community down and perpetuated the discord that exists in our society today. Jesus says over and over again that the Kingdom is here and our efforts should be here In the Sermo on the Plain, Luke shows us what Jesus saw as essential behavior to bring that Kingdom to life. He does it in the healings and he does it in the teachings. A short time back, I was talking to Larry who distributes tents and blankets and things to folks who are in need. We were talking about the greater need to find a systemic solution for homelessnes and how our meager efforts were only puttin bandaids on very large problem. I told him that at least we could put a bandaid on it and help for a short while. I have thought about that a lot since we talked and I have thought of the response we get from the people we put bandaids on. I have come to realize that it is not the bandaid that is helping, it is the fact that we are there to offer the bandaid We car enough to be out there and having something to offer The size of our offerings matters but the f that someone cares, someone is willing to put mistakes behind, someone is willing to offer a han and recognize the humanity in the suffering; that matters more. Do you hear what God is offering here Does it rin true? Do you feel it in your heart? I believe God made us for relationships. I believe Jesus taught us about relationships; that the Kingdom will blossom from relationships. Now, in this time and place, we need to see the Son of Man in everyone we meet. We need to stand on the level place and help Jesus heal everyone. The world around us is trying to pull us apart, to see everyone as other. If we can take the time and effort to practice hospitality we ca make a difference We can mend the tears in ou relationships and change the feelings of ill ease that confronts us too often these days. If more and more of us offer the bandaids that Go has asked us to offer then pretty soon we have direction and then a movement and then maybe the Kingdom. Who knows? What we do know are the lessons that Jesus has offered us, on the plain, in Jerusalem, at the shore of Galilee, every place he walked. How can we follow the teachings he spoke on the plain today and this week? Amen.  By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector
Today’s gospel features the calling of Jesus’ disciples. All four gospels feature an account of how the disciples were called to ministry. Matthew, Mark, and Luke’s versions share similar core details, but it is only Luke who offers us such luscious details. Jesus has moved from his hometown of Nazareth to Capernaum. This small fishing village rests along the shore of Lake Gennesaret (gehn-NEHS-uh-reht), more familiar to us as the Sea of Galilee. Jesus would go on to base much of his ministry out of this village. One sabbath day he showed up in the synagogue, and began to teach.* By day's end, Jesus had healed a man with unclean spirits, Simon Peter’s mother-in-law of a high fever, and many villagers of their ailments. It didn’t take long for people to become hungry for more. More teachings, more healings, a yearning to draw nearer to the Holy One. This only continued to be the case as Jesus expanded his ministry across Judea. Our gospel lesson picks up early on in Jesus' time in Capernaum. Simon Peter and his friends, James and John, have just come back from a long night of fishing. Except these hard working fisher folk have come up short. They returned to the shore with empty nets. Before coming to Saints James and Andrew, I served a small church in a fishing village off the coast of Maine. Many villagers were lobsterfolk, or supported the fishing economy in one form or another. These lobsterfolk were generally self-employed. They would work crazy hours in all sorts of weather conditions, just to bring in a small haul of lobster that could then be sold to a distributor. One of those lobsterfolk was a parishioner. Lincoln was one of the hardest working people I’ve ever met. He gave everything to his work. All so he could provide a modest living for himself and his son. There were good seasons and bad seasons, and the success, or lack thereof, would shape their economic livelihood for the rest of the year. We can imagine what it must have felt like for Simon Peter, James, and John to come back from a long night’s work with an empty net. They were probably feeling defeated. They may have felt demoralized; concerned with the impact on their families. All they wanted was to finish their chores. Instead, they had their days, and ultimately their lives, turned upside down by an encounter with Jesus. Crowds had gathered on the shore to hear Jesus teach. They’d been pressing in on him. So he took matters into his own hands. He climbed into Simon Peter’s boat, and asked him to put out a waze from shore. I can’t imagine Simon Peter was excited by this life opportunity in the moment. He was tired and ready to be done for the day. Yet the cultural norms of respect and hospitality would have led him to do as he was asked. Besides - this guy had once healed his mother-in-law of a high fever. After Jesus was done teaching, he told Simon Peter to head into deeper water and put out his net. Simon Peter was understandably reluctant. He tactfully shared they had been fishing all night to no avail. But in the spirit of hospitality, he told Jesus, If you say so, I will.” Imagine everyone’s surprise when the net was so full, that Simon Peter had to call on his friend’s boat nearby to come and help. Before long these two boats were so full of fish that they were close to sinking. These fisherfolk and the crowd along the shore were in complete amazement. Simon Peter fell to his knees, and told Jesus to leave him. Jesus had implied that Simon Peter should trust and have faith, but he doubted. He let his fear and shame prevent him from believing. In spite of having witnessed Jesus’ incredible healing and teaching. As Simon Peter knelt before Jesus, he recognized this shortcoming. He confessed his sin, or rather, owned the fact that he’d missed the mark. Except Jesus does something unexpected. He doesn’t rebuke Simon Peter, telling him to do better, as a frustrated parent or boss might. Instead, Jesus tells him: “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” Jesus is asking Simon Peter, James, and John to set aside their fears, and accept the Holy One’s call to walk in love and fish for people. And they do. When they return to shore with the miraculous haul of fish, they walk away. Away from their boats, the fish, the financial gain it represented, and their very lives. Luke tells us, “...they left everything and followed him.” Because as Richard Meux Benson wrote in a quote I shared a couple of weeks ago, “We emerge from our encounter with Christ as changed people. We cannot follow the same path as before.” ** Each of our gospels features a story focused on the call of the disciples. These stories are meant to remind us of our own baptismal and vocational callings. So often we hear the whisper of Christ, “...calling us from the safety of the shore to an adventure of the spirit.”*** Yet following that call puts us at risk. Because we are agreeing to live by God’s values, to strive for God’s dream, which so often is at odds with the values of the world. We seek to live into our baptismal promises: to ground our lives in scripture, prayer, communion, and community; to persevere and resist selfishness and evil, and when we muck it up, return to God once again; to share the Good News of God’s love in our thoughts, words, and deeds; to seek and serve Christ in all persons by loving our neighbors as ourselves; to strive for justice and peace, and respect the inherent dignity of every human being; and to care for God’s precious creation. Our baptismal call and the promises that accompany it are a tall ask. This has been true in every generation of the Church. Yet we lean into our calling and these values, even when they feel impossible. Because once we have encountered Christ, our worlds are turned upside down. We spend the rest of our lives seeking to follow Christ, and live into these values. We also have vocational callings. Following these calls may feel like an even greater risk. As the call is asking us to step into a specific way of embracing our baptismal call in the world, and the gifts God has given us. Sometimes these vocational callings are as clear as day. We know them from a young age, and embrace them fully. This was the case for my childhood friend Julie, who seemed to come out of the womb knowing she was a writer and singer. When we really pause to reflect, we notice the particular gifts or passions that have been laid on our hearts. These kinds of vocational callings are ones we gladly share with the world, usually without even needing to think about it twice. These gifts or passions seem to be woven into our DNA. Then there are other vocational callings that feel less clear, or are deeply scary. Seeds are planted throughout our lives, and when the garden blooms, we begin to notice that God is inviting us to step into a particular vocation. It's not always clear how or why, but we know we must spend time in that garden. There is a tug on our hearts, as we just can’t keep ourselves away from it. Whether we are working in the soil, or sitting and contemplating the garden. This was my own journey in coming to terms with my call to ordained ministry. And I’ve seen many of you go through similar journeys as you discern where God is calling you to share your gifts with the world. Accepting God’s call is always a choice. We can say no and God will still cherish us. And we very well may say no to God, again and again, and again. Because it just feels too risky. Or would completely disrupt our lives and those we share them with. We wouldn’t want to inconvenience anyone. Yet if God’s inviting us, it’s because God has a reason. A reason that makes it worth the chaos, worth the vulnerability, worth the disruption, worth the uncertainty. Because God is at work in the world, and in us, in ways we cannot even imagine. We love the safety of the shore. Yet what if we dared to embrace an adventure of the spirit? What if we find the courage God has planted within us, and in faith, say yes to God? To see where this adventure and vocational journey might take us, and along the way, experience God’s unimaginable, miraculous catch. As we head back out into our snowy world today, I would invite us into some self-reflection:
Amen. Lectionary Readings: Isaiah 6:1-8, [9-13] 1 Corinthians 15:1-11 Luke 5:1-11 Psalm 138 * Scripture referred to in this paragraph is from Luke 4:31-44 ** Daily Prayer for All Seasons, 54 (adapted). Original text: https://archive.org/details/benedictusdominu00bensuoft/page/52/mode/2up *** Epiphany Collect 5C, Prayers for an Inclusive Church by Steven Shakespeare  By Julie Carew, Lay Preacher
I’m sure it will come as a surprise to few of you that music plays a HUGE part in my life. I listen to music, a lot of it, and have for as long as I can remember. I go through many different phases in my musical listening and tend to get stuck, in a good way, to dwell, if you will, in certain genres for a while and then move on to another, coming back when I want to revisit. And then there are a few specific times when only certain music feels appropriate. Saturday afternoons growing up often meant hanging out in the kitchen with my dad listening to jazz, so that’s a go-to for me at similar times. My husband, Dan, and I have collected many Christmas albums over the years, and even made our own the first year we were married, and those always came out of the box and got lots of use between the end of November and Christmas Day, until the old CD player stopped playing them. In March, our house is filled with Irish tunes, and my son Hendrick knew the words (if you can call them that) to the chorus of “Whiskey in the Jar” from a very early age…. I think this is true for a lot of folks, but I’ll speak for myself here. Music helps me feel things, and can help me to stay in something a little longer, even though it might be uncomfortable. Sometimes it’s something I’m seeking out, sometimes it’s something unexpected that can catch me off guard. But if I’m really listening, it’s hard for me not to be moved by what I’m listening to. So, the first thing that struck me when I read through the passages in the liturgy for today, was thinking of a few songs that have been written from a couple of them. Let’s start with Psalm 84. Parts of the song “Better is One Day” by English singer/songwriter, Matt Redman, were taken right from the text of this psalm, and a few other psalms as well. Here’s how it begins: “How lovely is Your dwelling place, Oh Lord Almighty My soul longs and even faints for You For here my heart is satisfied, within Your presen I sing beneath the shadow of Your wings Better is one day in Your courts Better is one day in Your house Better is one day in Your courts Than thousands elsewhere” And later in the song, “My heart and flesh cry ou For You the living God Your Spirit's water for my soul I've tasted and I've seen, Come once again to me. I will draw near to You.” This song, when I first learned it, and even when I hear it now, is a reminder to me that no matter what I am facing, walking through, wrestling with, I am better off dwelling with God than without, and that I would still choose that, no matter what. It also speaks of longing for God, for the times when we don’t feel as close, having experienced God before, and seeking God again, but not quite being there yet. This song is comforting and inspiring and has certainly been a favorite of mine. The passage from Malachi is a little tougher. Here, we hear of an answer to seekers of a day of the Lord’s return that will be not so comforting. Here, we hear of a refining fire, not exactly warm and fuzzy, to say the least. This isn’t a passage that is comfortable for dwelling in, but I think that’s exactly the point. This passage brings to my mind a song put out by Jennifer Knapp, written by Kim Bontrager, the year before Matt Redman released “Better is One Day”. This song is called “Refine Me” and it’s a beautiful song to listen to, and yet the lyrics are very challenging. “I come into this place Burnin' to receive Your peace I come with my own chains From wars I fought for my own selfish gai …Lord, come with Your fi Burn my desires, refine Lord, my will has deceived me Please come free me, refine m This song speaks of a part of the spiritual process that often doesn’t feel so great, but can also help us to experience and hear from God. There is an acknowledgement that parts of ourselves (sometimes seemingly very good, strong parts) can stand in the way of leaning on God, and a desire for God to help us get those things out of the way- a purification process that brings us closer to God. This is, in a sense, what Jesus’s parents were seeking as they came to the temple in today’s Gospel passage. They made a sacrifice of doves or pigeons for purification, in order to be right with the Lord. This was the system of sacrifices, called korbanot, that were set up in order to allow “access” to God. Rabbi Daniel Kirzane explains that, “Korbanot were used to draw people closer to God. Israelites brought of erings of animals, grain, or money to the kohanim (ko-ha-neem), and the kohanim in turn of ered them as sacrifices to God. This was the main process used to connect ancient Jews with God. People gave up their prized possessions as a symbol of their dedication to God, and this became the most important part of Jewish worship. After the destruction of the Temple in the year 70 CE, Jews stopped of ering korbanot. Instead, they began to of er prayers. The rabbis taught us that we can become closer to God with the words of our mouths rather than with physical sacrifices… …The korbanot teach us that we have to give something of ourselves in order to draw nearer to God. They teach us that it can be easier to come close to God with the help of other people rather than all by ourselves. And they teach us that prayer can be deeper when we use ancient rituals. In all these ways, the korbanot still lead us to holiness today.”1 All of this makes me wonder about how and when I approach God, would you join me in that for a moment?
I wonder if you, like me, find that it often seems like it’s easier to just do things myself, to coast along and maintain, even to ignore the promptings of the Holy Spirit, rather than recognize what is happening, ask for help and pause to seek an answer. When we live with only ourselves in view, it can be easy to put on our blinders and push through, but when we make space for God to reveal the bigger picture to us, as challenging as that can be, we may find ourselves with an opportunity to speak up and speak truth. So, in considering all of this together- the acknowledgement that nowhere is better than in the presence, the company, of God- accessing God’s wisdom, truth, compassion and power; and also, knowing that there can be barriers both in ourselves and around us that can stand in the way- I wonder, what might God be refining in us? What if we allow or even invite that refining? Do we, can we, trust that it will bring us closer and allow us space to truly dwell with God? Worship, whether it’s through song, presence, sacrifice or prayer, is often deeply personal, as we relate to God on an individual level, and it’s essential for each of us to do that. And also, what power there is when we come together- as people open to hearing, seeing and being transformed, in communion with God and each other, noticing all that is happening to and around us, speaking up and acting in truth and love. That’s a place I truly want to dwell. Amen 1 https://www.myjewishlearning.com/article/understanding-biblical-sacrifice-korbanot/#:~:text=Korbanot%20 were%20used%20to%20draw,connect%20ancient%20Jews%20with%20God. |
