 By Charlie Houghton, Lay Preacher
Lord, please open our hearts and minds to your presence as we seek to better understand your good news. Amen. Please be seated. Epiphany and many of the Sundays that follow Christmas are some of my favorites. The gospels are filled with wonderful stories, and this Sunday is no exception. It is the story of a wonderful celebration; a wedding feast. A wedding deserves a great celebration. While marriage is a legal contract between two people being married, Christian marriage is more than just a legal contract. It is a covenant between two persons in the presence of God and the community. It is important and it is sacred. Let’s consider this gospel in the context of the time in which it occurs. Mary, and the brothers of Jesus are guests at a wedding in Cana. Soon Jesus, also an invited guest, and his earliest apostles arrive as well. It is likely that the bride or groom is related to the family. In these times, Jewish weddings frequently lasted for a week or longer. Hospitality was extremely important, with plenty of food and wine for the duration of the celebration. In this time and culture, poor hospitality was a serious affront, and running out of wine would have been the epitome of poor hospitality. The gospel begins, “On the third day there was a wedding in Cana of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was there.” (John 2:1) And so it was that the first miracle of Jesus’ ministry occurred at a wedding where the groom’s family ran out of wine well before the guests ran out of thirst. While from this point forward, miracles will be quite public, this first miracle is witnessed only by Jesus’ apostles, his mother, and the servants. It is important, however, to think about the last verse of this Gospel: “Jesus did this, the first of his signs, in Cana of Galilee, and revealed his glory; and his disciples believed in him.” When Mary notices that the wine is running low she brings her concerns to her son. Jesus answers, “Woman, what concern is that to you and to me? My hour has not yet come.” Some scholars have suggested that Jesus’ answer to his mother was not particularly respectful, which seems unlikely. Interestingly, the New International Version adds the word “dear” before woman. His mother is clearly not concerned about his answer, however, and overrides him by simply saying to the servants “Do whatever he tells you”. With that simple statement, Mary orchestrates her son’s entry into his public life – his ministry. Mary is a woman of strength and heart. Her initial conversation with Jesus is quiet and without fuss. While he seems to believe that it is not the time to begin his public life, Mary is completely sure that it is time. Once Jesus changes the water to wine and sends it to the host to taste, the bridegroom gets credit for the excellent wine, while Jesus remains in the background. In the miracles that follow this one, it is clear that these wonders are the work of Jesus. They are witnessed by many people, sometimes into the thousands. So why not this miracle? Some scholars think it is because this miracle is meant to prevent the bridegroom’s embarrassment. Others have offered the explanation that Jesus was still a bit on the fence about beginning his public life. And still others have suggested that this is a moment of creating for the joy of creating. This is a celebration, filled with joy and community. And what should we learn from this? I guess we could learn that moms are generally right and should be listened to. Actually, I do believe that Mary has much to teach us in this gospel. Mary’s concern for the young couple is an act of love. She is not concerned with what she can gain from asking Jesus to help them. She also has enormous trust in Jesus, that he will do the right thing. Mary is a woman of courage and faith. She does not have to know where this is going to follow her heart, to allow her faith to guide her. And what is faith? The closest the Bible comes to defining faith is Hebrews 11:1, “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” There is so much in scripture that speaks of faith. When I looked to find a scriptural definition of faith, there were so many citations that I quickly became overwhelmed. Finally, taking pieces of different readings and a little of my own twist, I finally came up with this: Faith is much more than intellectual agreement; it means putting your trust in God and having confidence that God will fulfill God’s promises. I sometimes feel like I am stuck in pea soup fog on my faith journey. I can get stuck in fear when I cannot seem to see the way forward. My prayer at these times is a simple plea to help me find the path I should be following. I am reminded of a story from Francis Murphy, a Presbyterian minister. He writes: “A house caught fire one night and a young boy was forced to climb on to the roof to escape. His father stood on the ground below with outstretched arms, calling to his son, "Jump! I’ll catch you." He knew the boy had to jump to save his life. All the boy could see, however, was flames, smoke, and blackness. As you can imagine, he was afraid to leave the roof, but his father kept yelling: "Jump! I will catch you." But the boy shouted back, "Daddy, I can’t see you." Then the father replied, "But I can see you and that’s all that matters.” Just as Christ sees us, and that’s all that matters. Know that is good to be seen. When we are seen, we are not alone. Mary understood this as she encouraged Jesus to fix the wine problem. Mary knew that not seeing God definitely did not equal not being seen by God. Her faith allowed her to move forward even if she wasn’t sure exactly where the path would lead. Five words. “Do whatever he tells you.” This simple yet powerful statement still resonates with us centuries later. Just as she got the attention of the servants at the wedding, I believe Mary is hoping to get our attention now. I can almost see her standing near me today and quietly directing me toward Jesus and softly saying, “Do whatever he tells you.” Amen  by Lay Preacher, Charlie Houghton
Dear Lord, please help my words find a home in the hearts of those listening. Help me to be a light of your hope. Amen “Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all – Emily Dickenson Ever since middle school, whenever I hear the word hope, this is the first thing that comes to mind. An amazing English teacher who inspired a love of poetry in a class of eighth graders – no mean feat that – left me with a lasting love of poetry and especially Emily Dickenson. And this poem in particular has been a lasting favorite. It makes hope seem a bit magical, though, and magical is not what I need right now. Why do I not need magical? Because we seem to be living in a world on fire. Politics in America has become completely toxic, with legislators unwilling to embrace the idea of compromise. Even common courtesy is absent these days, where name calling and a complete lack of respect seem to be more prevalent. Climate change is creating weather conditions never seen before – storms are worse and more frequent, and we have been plagued with flooding and wild fires as well as longer and more virulent hurricane and tornado seasons. Gun violence, as we noted at the beginning of our service this morning, is terrifying. Our children are not safe in schools, shopping malls are fair game, and even political candidates are feeling a little less safe. Richard Rohr and John Feister can help us to understand that difficult times are not forever, nor do we need to feel alone and hopeless. Instead they remark, “Darkness is sacred ground. The God who calls us into darkness will also sustain us and lead us through it. ‘God . . . brings the dead to life and calls into being what does not yet exist’ (Romans 4:17). Resurrection is the one and only pattern.” Difficult times are largely what the book of Lamentations is all about. To set this first reading into some context, it was written to express the grief and pain of the people of Jerusalem after the fall of the great city at the hands of the Babylonians in 586 BCE, a fall that the author attributes to Jerusalem’s sinfulness. Certainly this reading from Lamentations begins in a very painful vein, but then in verses 21-23 we hear, “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” The author reminds us that even in the midst of our most difficult times – what John of the Cross called “the dark night of the soul” – God is always with us, and God’s love will sustain us if we let it. Then suddenly, this whole idea of hope in the face of painful and difficult times became very personal. Our daughter called at 6:30 one evening to tell us she was at the Emergency Room in Greenfield with her son who was having chest pain and shortness of breath. We got there as soon as we could, but there was no news. X-rays had been taken and we were waiting for the cardio thoracic surgeon to tell us what was happening. It turned out he had a spontaneous pneumothorax, or simply put, a collapsed lung with no apparent cause. They had been at the ER since about 2:30 in the afternoon and it wasn’t until 11:00 that night that the decision was made to move him to Springfield where he would be near the thoracic surgeon in the event she was needed. It wasn’t until eight days later, after a chest tube, a second lung collapse, surgery, a lung that remained inflated and where it belonged, and discharge, that I finally took a deep breath. In those eight days, while I spent most of my time at the hospital, I had a lot of time to reflect on hope in the midst of pain and anxiety; a lot of time to pray. And a lot of time to internalize Lamentations - “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope…” I felt the prayers coming from friends who knew about the situation. And I felt God’s love and mercy. In the midst of this I prayed a simple prayer that I had cobbled together some time ago, and still change when my needs change. I call it a prayer for hope in difficult times. It goes like this: “Heavenly Father and mother of us all, in times of difficulty and uncertainty, I turn to You for hope. For you are the source of all hope and the light that shines in the darkness. I ask that you fill my heart with hope, Lord, and help me trust in Your plan, even, or maybe especially, when I cannot see the way. Please help me do as you would have me do, going beyond my fear to bring light to others I pass in my days. I ask this through you, God, Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen” Sometimes, though, our hopes are not realized in our time. Does this mean that they will never be realized? Or does it simply mean that God’s time is very different from our human times? Martin Luther King, Jr. reflected on this very concern. “Some of us, of course, will die without having received the realization of freedom, but we must continue to sail on our charted course. We must accept finite disappointment, but we must never lose infinite hope. Only in this way shall we live without the fatigue of bitterness and the drain of resentment.” Theologian and climate activist Sallie McFague suggests that the most difficult task facing us in these challenging times is having and maintaining hope. Despite the facts that look more than a little daunting – our lack of will to live sustainably and justly, greed appearing more important than planet health, the difficulty of persuading others to join the movement toward a healthy planet – the greater issue according to McFague is our lack of hope. She points out that part of the problem seems to be that we don’t understand where our hope should reside, that is, not in ourselves and our abilities, but in the power of God’s love found in the Holy Spirit and our willingness to cooperate with the spirit. She goes on to describe a faith-filled hope that should ground our engagement with this complicated and frightening world. “As we consider the basis for our hope, let us recall who God is. We must and can change our ways, live justly and sustainably on our planet, because of God, not because of ourselves. The hope we have lies in the radical transcendence of God…. God’s transcendence—God’s power of creative, redeeming, and sustaining love—is closer to us than we are to ourselves. God is the milieu, the source, of power and love in which our world, our fragile, deteriorating world, exists. The world is not left to fend for itself, nor is God “in addition” to anything, everything. Rather, God is the life, love, truth, goodness, and beauty that empower the universe and shine out from it….” And finally, look around at our service today. Our very young and talented pianist, Anderson Weng; our own families with their beautiful children. We often refer to them as the future of our church, but make no mistake, they are the hope of our world. So with a God like ours, a God who consistently inserts God’s self into the fray for us, a God who gives us every possible opportunity to succeed at being our best selves, how can we possibly lack hope? Amen  By Lay Preacher, Charlie Houghton
May the words of my mouth and the meditation of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Amen As Sister Joan Chittister noted in a 2017 interview with Emily McFarland Miller regarding Ash Wednesday and the start of Lent, “The God who made us dust knows we're dust. We don't have to feel like perpetual failures because we aren't more than we are, and we don't have to be in contest and contention with everybody around us, because once I know myself and realize I have limitations, then two things happen: I realize my need for you, and I do not expect more from you than I expect from myself. So mercy comes with it, joy comes with it, authenticity comes with it, and freedom comes with it. ”[1] This day is a gateway. As we move into Lent, we begin a journey from nothing – dust – to everything – where God sends us God’s own son to teach us how to live in a way that is pleasing to God. This is the beginning of a time of reflection and action. We are called to reflect on our lives. How is our prayer life? Do we spend meaningful time in prayer and reflection? Do we honor Sabbath to rest and reset? Action requires us to look at both what we are doing and how we are doing it. The Gospel talks about doing good things for the purpose of being noticed while doing those good things. Drawing attention to ourselves while doing good works can actually detract from them. These good works become more about us and less about the people we suggest we are helping. Sometimes it means that because we are not paying attention to what others need, we cannot provide appropriately for them. What we really hope to achieve is quiet faith in action. That is to say, we act in love and not for power. As Matthew notes in tonight’s gospel, “Jesus said, ‘Beware of practicing your piety before others in order to be seen by them’” (Matthew 6:1). Yet here we are, ready to put a cross made of ashes on our foreheads for anyone to see. How do we reconcile this with the idea of not “practicing our piety before others”? It is thought that ashes are a sign of humility, penitence and mortality. Ashes are often a sign of mourning in Scripture. For example, in the book of Job, Job sat in ashes during his afflictions (Job 2:8-10); and in chapter 3 of Jonah, when Nineveh was called to repent, the people, including even the King, immediately turned to God, acknowledged their sin, and donned sackcloth and ashes in repentance. (Jonah 3:1-10) Ash Wednesday sets the tone for Lent. This is a time of self reflection and prayer. The ashes we wear on our foreheads represent our repentance and acknowledgment of the mistakes we have made over this past year. Yet embedded in this repentance is the knowledge that ours is a forgiving God whose love and mercy save us. The origins of Lent are thought to date back to 325 CE, and the length of Lent is thought to honor Jesus’ time spent in the desert after being baptized and before the start of his ministry.[2] The Rev. Canon Porter Taylor, in an article entitled “Entering Lent with Intentionality” says, “Lent is not a time to earn forgiveness for your sins. It is not a time to begrudgingly give something up temporarily only to greedily pick it back up after Easter. It is not a time for false humility or personal piety. Lent is not only a tradition for the liturgically minded. I believe that Lent is for the priesthood of all believers. I believe that Lent is full of hope.”[3] I agree with Rev. Porter and Sr. Joan that Lent can be filled with hope. After all, at the end of Lent is the glorious season of Easter. But our Lent is only just beginning. And we still need to journey through Lent to the foot of the cross before we can reach the empty tomb. And it seems really relevant that we bring ourselves to the foot of the cross as we see the state the world is in right now. It is difficult to look at the world in hope when there is war in Ukraine and Israel; continuing refusal to meet the challenges of climate change by many political and corporate leaders; unwavering support on the part of many politicians for the NRA’s unwillingness to compromise on even the smallest measures when increasing gun violence often hurts the most vulnerable of our society — our children who should feel and be safe while in school. Many things that are important to us seem out of reach, beyond our abilities to impact them. And that may very well be true. Certainly my own sphere of influence does not include international relations or even the ability to give our planet a fighting chance. But that does not mean that I get a pass. If lent is to be hopeful for me, I have to make the effort to participate in some kind of action that makes a difference. Sr. Joan Chittister has a suggestion for how we might participate in something that seems quite simple, but may be more profound than we realize. In a talk she gave at a conference, she suggests saying this silently to everyone and everything you see for thirty days, but I would suggest you keep it for the people you run across, and say it aloud if you can convince yourself to do so, “I wish you happiness now and whatever will bring happiness to you in the future.” It is a small gesture, but it could be important for both you and the person to whom you say it. And Sr. Joan suggests we see what happens to our own souls. I believe a meaningful Lent lies not in what we are willing to give up, but in what we are willing to contribute. Sometimes what I feel able to do is simply to pray. I found some of this prayer online, and rewrote it with my own thoughts guiding it. It is my prayer for hope when I worry that I have too little. It is something I will pray daily throughout Lent in order to remember that Lent is a time of hope. It is a time when I will try to create within myself a light to shine in the darkness, a light to guide others home. So in this difficult and confusing time, I offer this prayer: Heavenly Father and Mother of us all, in times of darkness and uncertainty, I turn to You for hope. You are the source of all hope and the light that shines in the darkness. Fill my heart with hope and light, Lord, and help me trust in Your plan, even when I cannot see the way. I ask this through our God, Creator, Redeemer and Sustainer. Amen [1] Emily Mcfarlan Miller, The Salt Lake City Tribune, Religion section, April 20, 2017, Interview with Sr. Joan Chittister [2] Jack Dutton, Newsweek, February 22, 2023, “Ash Wednesday: Why Christians Put Ashes on Their Forehead [3] Rev. Canon Porter C. Taylor, News & Stories From The Field, Entering Lent With Intentionality, February 12, 2015
Welcome to our celebration of Saint Andrew the Apostle, one of the patron saints of our community. I would like, first, to share some of what I learned about Andrew. As many of you know, he is the patron saint of Scotland. He is also patron saint of Barbados, Georgia, Ukraine, Russia, Sicily, Greece, and Cyprus and many more. Additionally he is the patron saint of fisher persons, fishmongers, and rope makers, as befits his early life as a fisherman; yet he is also the patron saint of singers, miners, farm workers, and pregnant women. Until I began researching Saint Andrew, I was unaware of how many groups of people might claim a saint.
In today’s Gospel, we learn that Andrew and his brother Simon, called Peter, were the first disciples called to follow Jesus. That they quickly left their fishing and followed Jesus may seem a bit crazy. But there is a different memory of how Andrew became Jesus’ follower found in John 1:35-42, where we learn that Andrew was a follower of John the Baptist. Andrew and another of John’s followers were standing next to him when he watched Jesus walk by. John said, “Look, here is the Lamb of God!” Andrew and the other disciple immediately turned and began to follow Jesus. Ultimately they went with Jesus to the place he was staying. They ended up staying the night and listening to Jesus, after which Andrew immediately went and found his brother, Simon and told him, “We have found the Messiah,’ and brought Simon to Jesus. I think that likely makes Andrew the first missionary, as he brought the first new follower to Jesus. We don’t often hear of Andrew in a prominent leadership position. He is not part of the “inner circle” (Peter, James and John). Much of the time that we hear of Andrew in scripture, we hear him referred to as the brother of Simon Peter, almost as though he has no identity apart from that. Still, Andrew was a leader, if a quieter and more unassuming one. For example, it was he who brought the boy with the loaves and fishes to Jesus. Later, when some Greeks ask Philip if they could be introduced to Jesus, Philip appeals to Andrew for help. Andrew is a quiet leader. He seems to simply do what the occasion calls for. The more I read about Andrew, the more I liked him. He seemed to me to be unassuming, yet willing to do whatever was needed. His leadership style might be less dramatic than Peter, James and John, but I don’t think he lacked the ability to lead. I think I became a bit of a fangirl for Andrew, due in large part to my impression of him as a man deeply rooted in faith and love. I think that he went to find Simon Peter and bring him to Jesus because Andrew was convinced that Jesus was truly the messiah, and his love for his brother made him want to share this amazing discovery. Third century church historian Eusebius wrote that Andrew traveled north to Scythia after the resurrection, but little is known of his life beyond that. Tradition holds that Andrew was crucified in about the year 60CE, on a diagonal cross as he believed he was not worthy to be crucified on the same type of cross as Jesus was. Still, my impression of Andrew reminds me of the importance of saints on our faith. My impression of Andrew’s faith rooted in love, inspired me to think about the need to spread Jesus’ love to everyone we meet - not through words, but through acting in love as Jesus did, and as I believe Andrew did. We need our saints to set an example for us, to show us how to be our best selves. As I noted earlier, today’s Gospel was pretty straightforward. The second lesson was puzzling to me. How do we become more like Andrew? How do we step out in faith and love to serve others as Andrew did? Clearly, if we are following Andrew’s example, we do not need to make a big production of what we do. We just need to remember that our loving and generous God expects us to follow the example of Jesus and of Andrew. One of the people I spoke with about Andrew and about remembering how lucky we are to have such a loving and generous God, told me that she had simplified this down to three sentences during Covid. She was determined not to be about fear and sadness throughout the pandemic. Instead she repeated three simple phrases to herself, “I am grateful. I am blessed. And it will be okay.” As I thought about it, I realized it was a very reasonable mantra for anyone who has a bit of apprehension in the face of trying to step out in love to serve God’s people. Thank you Cheri Ann. It seems to me that the reading from Romans speaks to God’s love for God’s people, and God’s desire for us to spread that love generously as we were taught by the way Jesus lived his life on earth. The reading from Romans says, “‘No one who believes in him will be put to shame.’ For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek; the same Lord is Lord of all and is generous to all who call on him.” This is the way of Jesus; this is the way Andrew learned from him. This is the way of leading with love. I believe that we are the children of a generous God. A God who so loves us that he sent his son to teach us how to live. Jesus lived a life of love and service, and that is the life we are called to as well. In the second half of the reading from Romans, we hear that there are all kinds of obstacles to people calling on God’s help when needed. How can they call on a God they do not know, and how can they come to know God unless someone tells them of God’s existence? Romans again, “So faith comes from what is heard, and what is heard comes through the word of Christ.” It is up to those who have heard the word of Christ to share it with others. This does not mean we have to stand on street corners and preach. It means we have to walk out in love to serve our brothers and sisters, no matter who they are. When we began Emmaus Companions, we knew that preaching on street corners was not a good way to let people on the margins know that they are loved. By accepting our brothers and sisters on the margins with love, not judgment; remembering to listen, not preach; accept that we do not understand all that they are going through, but trying to learn how to walk with them, made us companions on their journey; trustworthy and caring. Sometimes we have seen people fall off the wagon or get involved in a fight with someone who used to be a close friend or die from an overdose or freeze to death because they had no shelter. It seems to me that we need more people walking out in love to help folks find food or shelter or an agency that deals with whatever problem they have. I know Emmaus Companions could use the help, and so could the Sunday Sandwich ministry or Second Helpings. These are just a few ways that we can spend our love. We have a wonderful church community, with so many amazing ministries. We are a people with big hearts. We follow the examples of our patron saints and step out in love. There is great reward in doing the work of Jesus. In fact, it can change our lives. I have never regretted a moment spent in the prayer corner or at table on Monday night’s Second Helpings meal; or walking on the street to listen to the many people we have been privileged to meet through Emmaus Companions. Those are the ministries I know most about, but there are many more at James and Andrew. Just look around a bit and I suspect you will be able to find a ministry suited to your talents. Once again I think of our reading from Romans, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” My prayer for you and for me is that we find a way to bring good news to all who long to know that they are loved - regardless of who they are. Amen |
