 By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector
The Church across the world is invited today to begin the observance of a holy Lent. Ashes are imposed by drawing the sign of the cross on foreheads, while reminding us of an eternal and unavoidable truth. “You are dust, and to that dust you shall return.” This is not a condemnation. It is a gift. A reminder of how precious life is, and our shared responsibility to make this journey with faith and intention. We are invited to observe Lent by self-examination and repentance; by prayer, fasting, and self-denial; and by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word. I want to spend a few minutes this evening sharing some ways we might embrace this invitation. They may or may not be right for you. What matters is that we each discern how God is inviting us to observe this Lent. We might observe Lent by focusing on self examination and repentance. We begin with self-examination. Looking first at where we may need reconciliation with God and/or ourselves. Asking:
Then we consider where we may need reconciliation with our family, friends, and neighbors. Asking:
Finally, we reflect on reconciling with our enemies. Those we believe are vehemently wrong or hold with contempt. And if we don’t think we have any enemies, I would push back a bit. Think about the politicians, business leaders, or groups that we believe are acting deplorably. Can we distinguish between their disturbing actions and the truth of our faith - that they too are made in the image and likeness of God? That they too are beloved by God? And if so, can we more consistently model that in the way we speak about them? Once we have gotten clear on where we need reconciliation, we find a way to repent and mend those tender places. This may be in prayer or journaling; talking to a trusted friend or therapist; changing a behavior or action; or sitting down with whomever we are called to reconcile with. We might bring this tender concern to God during the confession in Sunday worship, or meet with the clergy about the sacramental rite of reconciliation. Another way to observe Lent is by focusing on prayer, fasting, and self-denial. When Bishop Beckwith was with us a couple of Sundays ago, he proposed a Sabbath Fast from Food, Finance and Media. What might it look like if throughout the Church, some choose to embrace a second Sabbath, where we:
Imagine the space that might be generated as a result of this fast. Space to pray and discern what we want our relationship to be with the production/consumption system. Now maybe the demands of caregiving or mid-life leave us feeling unable to take a second day of Sabbath. Maybe we have a hard enough time trying to hold space for a Sabbath. If that’s the case, we might instead double down in our intention of honoring the Sabbath. Choose one day a week that we will intentionally gear towards rest and renewal. On this day, we won’t shop online or run around doing errands. Rather we will make ourselves more available to God. If you’re interested in exploring this, please see the links posted with this sermon to Bishop Beckwith’s blog. We might observe Lent by reading and meditating on God’s holy Word. Molly introduced me to a lovely Lenten devotional that comes from the Communities for Spiritual Vitality, a ministry of the Diocese of Vermont & Diocese of Massachusetts. The devotional is focused on the prophet Isaiah, who was a prophet of both rebuke and hope. Something we all need right now. Each daily devotion begins with an invitation to pray the included Collect of the Day, and a particular passage from Isaiah. Then we’re invited to reflect on the passage:
Then read the daily reflection, and notice where we’re drawn in and where we pull back. Lastly, end in prayer, including prayer for the writer, their worshipping community, and their diocese. This devotional features writers from all over Province 1, including our own Jimmy Pickett, Julie Carew, Molly Scherm, and Will Harron. If you’re interested in this devotional, please see the link posted with this sermon. No matter what you discern, this Lent, remember you are invited to wear your ashes, to claim repentance, grace and deep relationship with God for the challenges of your daily life. Amen.
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 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 Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector
Earlier this week, while I was spending time with a set of Epiphany prayers from Daily Prayer for All Seasons, I stumbled upon a meditation, attributed to Richard Meux Benson. Benson was an Episcopal brother and the founder of the Society of St. John the Evangelist, whose order began in England. Benson wrote, “The wise men cannot return to their own country by the same way they used to come to Bethlehem. While they cannot go the same route because of Herod, we cannot go the same way once we have met Christ. We emerge from our encounter with Christ as changed people. We cannot follow the same path as before. Like the wise men, we must seek out Christ, but we will always leave as transformed people.”* We cannot go the same way once we have met Christ. We emerge from our encounter with Christ as changed people. It is this precise change that draws us out of our own worlds, and into our common life as the Church. We gather with those who understand how profoundly Christ has changed us. Together we listen to the scriptures and break bread. We discern how our individual gifts can be shared in community, to strengthen the mission and ministry of the Church. We explore how to embody Christ’s values in a world that seems to value the market, individualism, and power above and before God’s dream. Sometimes finding our way together as the Church is challenging. This was certainly the case for the early church in Corinth, Greece. This city was an important trade center, featuring two ports, and it embodied Rome’s imperial culture.** The church in Corinth was composed of some Jews, but primarily of Gentiles - those who were not of the Jewish tradition. This meant folks from two very different backgrounds were trying to figure out how to be the Church together, while living in the heart of Roman imperialism. Paul wrote to help the community grapple with their unique challenges. One question the community was stuck on was whether it was okay to eat meat from animals that had been offered to other gods in pagan temples? At the heart of this issue, was a more substantive question. One we still have to sit with today: How do we navigate being the Church in a world that has different values? Paul offers many insights in his first letter to the community. One of his most important pieces of advice comes from today’s reading, which is placed immediately before 1 Corinthians 13 - love is patient, love is kind. There will always be disagreements within faith communities, as we are each bringing with us our individual experiences, perspectives, and gifts. It is easier to find common ground and a way forward, when we remember that, first and foremost, we are one body of Christ. Paul writes: “For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ...God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as [God] chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many members yet one body” (1 Cor 12:12,18). Just as we need our eyes, ears, hands, and feet, we need individual members of the church to bring their experiences, perspectives, and gifts to the body. We are always better when we come together as one body, in service of Christ’s mission. This fall I had the opportunity to see how people learn to work as one body at one of my kids cross country meets. While most people ran as individuals, this particular meet offered a challenge for teams to participate in - the centipede race. Each school could have four of their runners connected by rope, and they would run the entire 5k together as one body. When I saw the kids at the starting line, roped together, I was pretty surprised. It was hard to imagine being able to do that well given they don’t normally practice running as a team. This wasn’t a crew race after all. By the end of the meet, it turned out one of the centipedes fell apart, and never did finish. Another struggled, but persevered and finally made their way to the finish line towards the very end. Yet still another team figured out how to run well as a singular body, and they reached the finish line with an average time, right in the middle of the pack. Watching these teams try their best, or struggle through, was fascinating. They were a reminder of how difficult it can be to do things as one body. There’s no room for ‘my way or the highway’ attitudes, as it would lead to a disaster with everyone moving in the wrong direction. Nor can we refuse to participate, as that will prevent the body from moving at all. We have to slow down, and ground ourselves. As the Church we ground ourselves in prayer, setting our minds on Christ, and trusting the Spirit to help us run the race together. Paul emphasizes that for us to be the Church well, we need each of our many members with our individual gifts. We need people who are called to lead and heal, to teach and feed, to repair and sing. At our Vestry meeting this past week, Kathryn led us in a meditation and bible study where we explored the gifts within our parish. We reflected on how important it is that we continue to help one another see the gifts we each possess, and find ways to share those gifts. When we are able to do this, we are a stronger body. We are better prepared to follow God’s call to be the Church during uncertain times. This past week, we welcomed a new president into office, and we resumed our country’s long tradition of a peaceful transition of power. As is commonly the case, our new president signed several executive orders. No matter what political leaders are at the helm, no matter their political party, those leaders will seek to instill their values into law, setting the tone for the next four years. The challenge for us as Christians, as Christ’s one body, is that sometimes those values are deeply at odds with the values of our faith tradition. The Episcopal Church relies on scripture, tradition, and reason when making sense of how we are called to live out our faith in the here and now. It is through this practice that our church has embraced the importance of welcoming the stranger and supporting humane and reasonable policies when it comes to how we respond to the needs of immigrants, refugees, and migrants. The Christ-child and the holy family lived as refugees in a foreign land, and throughout his public ministry, Jesus routinely advocated that we welcome the stranger (Matthew 2:13-15). Likewise, it is scripture, tradition and reason that has informed our understanding of gender identity and expression, as a spectrum. As such we have supported respectful and reasonable policies that recognize the dignity of each and every person, particularly those our culture has historically placed on the margins, such as transgender and nonbinary folks. As the psalmist proclaims in psalm 139, God created us and loves us for our authentic selves, and that there is nothing that will ever change that. And of course, it is this practice that has informed our emphasis on creation care, and the importance of supporting reasonable and timely policies that help us collaborate with others around the world in addressing the climate crisis. At creation, God charged humanity to be stewards of God’s precious creation (Genesis 1:28-30). We cannot turn our backs on God, and this, the first of all our charges by God. So how do we proceed as the Church? How do we make sense of our mission and ministry as the body of Christ, as the empire we live within pursues, at least some values, that are deeply at odds with God’s values? We begin by remembering we are not alone. We are one body, with many members. While our many members may share different opinions and perspectives, we are united in our shared sense of God’s call to compassion, love, justice, and mercy. This is not easy work, as we are one body in the longest centipede race imaginable. Yet the Church, and other religious traditions, have a role to play in resisting the pervasive fear that is consuming our nation and culture’s common life. Because there is no place for fear in faith. As the prophet Isaiah once wrote, “O God, you will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are fixed on you; for in returning and rest we shall be saved; in quietness and trust shall be our strength” (Isaiah 26:3; 30:15). When we come together as the body of Christ, and set aside our fears for faith, we will know perfect peace, and it will be our strength. That strength will ground us as the body of Christ. The peace and strength that comes from faith will help us to walk in Love. To help lift up our moral responsibility for compassion, love, justice, and mercy. As the body of Christ, we can do our small part, in our little corner of God’s world, to help bring about God’s dream. Our faith will guide us forward. Whatever those in power may be doing, we will persevere in Love: by welcoming the stranger; by respecting the dignity of every human being; by caring for creation; and by uniting in our common call to lift up the need for compassion, love, justice and mercy in God’s world. As we head into the coming week, I want to invite us to set aside our fear for faith, so we might persevere in Love. There are so many opportunities to try this: when we read the news, or see a strong opinion on social media, or listen to people in line at the grocery store, or get anxious texts from loved ones. Each time, let us take a breath, and set aside fear for faith, so we might persevere in love. Amen. Lectionary Readings Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10 1 Corinthians 12:12-31a Luke 4:14-21 Psalm 19 * Daily Prayer for All Seasons, 54 (adapted). Original text: https://archive.org/details/benedictusdominu00bensuoft/page/52/mode/2up ** Jewish Annotated New Testament, 321. |
