27 February 2010 – Isaiah49:8-16a/Psalm131/Matthew6:24-34
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Mount Calvary, Baltimore, Maryland
I Will Not Forget You
I will not forget you. Wait upon the Lord. Do not worry. Some of the most intimate descriptions of God’s care for us are bundled together this Eighth Sunday after the Epiphany. “See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands.” “But I still my soul and make it quiet, like a child upon its mother’s breast.” “Consider the birds of the air….the lilies of the field.”
Isaiah writes to a community of God in exile – Babylon to be precise. Israel cannot see beyond the present boundaries of exile, and yet God speaks as if they are already home. We might well ask ourselves, what mighty “empires” and false gods seek to keep us in exile? Seek to make us give in to ways that are not God’s ways?
I think looked at from that perspective, we can all find ourselves in exile somehow, somewhere – if nowhere else, in this chapel where we have been separated out from the main body of what has been your church home. Not that we do not appreciate and love this space, but the circumstances that have forced us into this corner of God’s vineyard seek to make us feel not at home.
Why even the Jewish people of Jesus’ time, although back at home in Israel from Babylon for some 500 years or more were not at all at home in the sense that the Empire of Rome had subjugated them and turned their homeland into an armed camp.
And as Jesus makes clear, things like mammon, a synonym here for what? Market forces? A money centered approach to life’s most basic needs? Being encouraged to live lives of indentured servitude to the commoditized pursuit of happiness through the acquisition of more and more things? That a life devoted to mammon is a life of exile from the kingdom of God’s most gracious reign. (Mammmon, by the way, comes from the same root as “Amen.”)
So the prophet encourages a people of exile to “come out,” to “show yourselves,” because God is already providing a way, a highway, an avenue to escape – a new exodus from whatever slavery may be holding us in check. Asking the basic question: Are you ready to partner with me for something new? Can we look beyond the boundaries constructed for us to see a way out of here? Can we imagine what a new life of freedom from the constraints of a kind of ecclesiastical bondage that seeks to subsume us all?
“I will not forget you,” sayeth the Lord, “See, I have inscribed you on the palms of my hands!” God is that close. We are that close to God! And unlike tattoos that often proclaim our loyalties to one group or another, this inscription cannot be removed by laser or any other human technology – we are inscribed on the palms of God’s hands forever. Can we imagine that? Can we feel what that is like? It goes beyond being held in God’s hands – we are the very lines and creases of an eternity of working on our behalf to seek and maintain our freedom in God’s way!
Or, if that is unimaginable – the Psalmist in Psalm 131 sees us as a child held closely on mother God’s breast. “I do not occupy myself with great matters, or things that are too hard for me.” Can there really be only one way to love and worship the Lord our God? Are we really meant to be preoccupied with questions of how we can be church in “the right way”?
Or, allowing my soul to be quieted within me, can I see, as William Temple saw, that “The Church is the only human institution whose sole purpose of existence is for those who are not its members.”
Is it a coincidence that Jesus says we are not to worry about food, or drink, or clothing, and then later in the 25th chapter of Matthew says it is precisely those things that will determine our place in his judgment? “I was hungry and you gave me food….I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink….I was naked and you clothed me…”
Jesus so passionately cares for the poor, asserts Jason Bayasee, that he identifies himself more with them than he ever does with the church, its liturgy, the sacraments, the Bible, or whatever else we Christians tend to equate with Jesus. So that when the poor cry and pray for mercy we ought to be the answer to that prayer! Only when we crowd out our own worries for food, drink and clothing with what some have called “the fear of Jesus” can we even begin to be the answer to their prayer. We are called to “wait upon the Lord, from this time forth forever more.”
“Can a woman forget her nursing young,” asks Isaiah, “or show no compassion for the child of her womb?” We are God’s children. She will not forget us. She has inscribed us on the palms of her hands!
With that knowledge, with such faith, we are given the courage and the strength and the inspiration to step outside any boundaries any “empire” may try to impose to hold us in exile – to hold us in check – to keep us captive to forces we erroneously believe to be more powerful than the love of God in Christ Jesus who says, “You are my beloved – with you I am well pleased.”
Embrace the feminine power set before us in God’s word to us this day – it is no coincidence that we are at present a congregation of women refusing to be shut in by powers that seek to control and destabilize our life of faith.
So it is we pray this day: Most loving Father, whose will it is for us to give thanks for all things, to fear nothing but the loss of you – and to cast all our care on you who care for us as a mother cares for the child of her womb – preserve us from faithless fears and worldly anxieties, that no clouds of this mortal life may hide us from the light of your love which is immortal, and which you have manifested to us in your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen! Vs Mammon!
Saturday, February 26, 2011
Sunday, February 20, 2011
Be Holy
20 February 2011/Epiphany 7A - Lev 19:1-2,9-18/Ps119:33-40/I Cor3:10-11,16-23/Mt 5:38-48
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Mount Calvary Episcopal Church, Baltimore
Love Your Neighbor - Love Your Enemies - Be Perfect
Last week God asked us to make a choice: choose blessing or curse, life or death. We live in a culture that believes in "free choices." But when put to us this way, is there really a choice?
Evidently there is, for one look at the world today would seem to indicate that we, collectively and individually, have not made the obvious choice.
So on this Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany, after the "manifestation of Christ" to the world, the point gets sharpened. The correct choice, it appears, involves Loving our neighbors, Loving our enemies, and, oh, in our spare time, Be Prefect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect!
Some might think this is taking imago Dei a tad too far - the idea that we are created in the image of God. And if it is God's image to be gracious, merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing (as it is written from one end of the Old Testament to the other), then what more is there to be said than that?
Evidently quite a bit! Someone has suggested that the commandment to "Love" concerns not feelings but "deeds that reflect faithfulness to the covenant." As detailed in Leviticus, this means not "cutting the corners" of the fields (not maximizing harvest and profit!) but leaving the gleanings for the poor. It means not defrauding one's neighbor, no slander, not hating others, and not taking vengeance or bearing a grudge (ouch!). That last one sure takes a lot of the fun out of life. We are to love our neighbor as we love ourselves - which in this narcissistic age of ours becomes a truly monumental command! And, we are to be Holy "because I the Lord your God am Holy."
To which Jesus adds turning the other cheek, giving up your coat and your cloak, going the extra mile, giving to everyone who begs, loving your enemies, greet everyone, and in your spare time, be perfect.
Some of this has been misconstrued - and with good reason. Those who are "in charge" or "in power" would like us to turn the other cheek. Never mind that what Jesus has in mind is an act of civil disobedience - a challenge to those in charge, at the time the Roman military. Jesus who at every turn resists evil was not counseling us not to resist evil - but rather offers strategies for confronting evil and exposing it for what it is - evil!
Rather, non-retaliation is meant to break the cycle of violence in confrontations of people of unequal power and status. A backhanded slap (only the right hand would be used) is meant to insult and humiliate. Turning the other cheek invites a second slap to be with the palm of the hand, which in the Roman Empire signaled the one being slapped as an equal. To be struck a second time with the palm would humiliate the one doing the slapping. So understood, no second slap would be made, breaking the cycle of violence which may be a step toward reconciliation.
Similarly, a debtor ending up naked before a magistrate, after handing over all garments to a creditor, places shame on said creditor - the assertion being that one who observes the nakedness is shamed. Finally, being impressed by a Roman Centurion to carry his backpack a mile but carrying it "the extra mile" creates a dilemma for the soldier who may be punished for exacting excessive service!
Oh, and if that were not enough, we are to welcome and greet our enemies, wishing for their well-being. That is, to be a welcoming Christian community means more than a friendly or even hearty salutation! It means loving our enemies.
Such strategies are acts of civil disobedience, not the actions of door-mat, milk-toast Christians, but rather forcing truth and justice to confront power, especially the power of domination and humiliation. Such is the way, it turns out, is the way of Perfection.
Such strategies were adopted by Ghandi in India, Martin King, Rosa Parks and Pauli Murray in America, and today in the streets of Cairo. One might even construe that our holding our ground in this chapel is in some way a living out of our Lord's command to Love our Neighbors.
That we are here this morning is in a great part thanks to those who have gone before us with lives of such spiritual perfection, risking come what may for the opportunity to worship and follow the Lord and Savior who calls us also to be perfect.
Now in Annapolis the struggle to speak truth to power continues on behalf of our gay and lesbian sisters and brothers. In the days ahead the drama will play out for equal rights and protection for those who wish to live in faithful, loving relationships. In Cairo, Yemen, Bahrain, Jordan, Iran, Afghanistan,, the streets of Baltimore and no doubt countless other places around the world, the struggle for equal rights and protection plays itself out in dramas like those Jesus portrays every day.
We pray for the greatest gift which is love to be poured into our hearts so that whatever we do will embody the kind of action and deeds that will identify us as faithful to the covenant into which we were baptized - a covenant that says we will seek and serve Christ in all persons, not some people, not a lot of people, but all people! A covenant that says we will strive for justice and peace for all people, not some people, not a lot of people, but all people.
This is what it means to be a people who choose life! This is what it means to be Holy. This is what it means to be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect! For we belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God!
Sadly, there is lots of loving that needs to be done both at home and abroad. The Good News is that God in Christ, through Baptism and Eucharist, equips us to be perfect as God is perfect, for the love of God has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.
To" be perfect" is not an indictment of our failings: it is a promise that says we may love the world as God has loved us!
To God be the glory, this day and every day, Amen.
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Mount Calvary Episcopal Church, Baltimore
Love Your Neighbor - Love Your Enemies - Be Perfect
Last week God asked us to make a choice: choose blessing or curse, life or death. We live in a culture that believes in "free choices." But when put to us this way, is there really a choice?
Evidently there is, for one look at the world today would seem to indicate that we, collectively and individually, have not made the obvious choice.
So on this Seventh Sunday after the Epiphany, after the "manifestation of Christ" to the world, the point gets sharpened. The correct choice, it appears, involves Loving our neighbors, Loving our enemies, and, oh, in our spare time, Be Prefect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect!
Some might think this is taking imago Dei a tad too far - the idea that we are created in the image of God. And if it is God's image to be gracious, merciful, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing (as it is written from one end of the Old Testament to the other), then what more is there to be said than that?
Evidently quite a bit! Someone has suggested that the commandment to "Love" concerns not feelings but "deeds that reflect faithfulness to the covenant." As detailed in Leviticus, this means not "cutting the corners" of the fields (not maximizing harvest and profit!) but leaving the gleanings for the poor. It means not defrauding one's neighbor, no slander, not hating others, and not taking vengeance or bearing a grudge (ouch!). That last one sure takes a lot of the fun out of life. We are to love our neighbor as we love ourselves - which in this narcissistic age of ours becomes a truly monumental command! And, we are to be Holy "because I the Lord your God am Holy."
To which Jesus adds turning the other cheek, giving up your coat and your cloak, going the extra mile, giving to everyone who begs, loving your enemies, greet everyone, and in your spare time, be perfect.
Some of this has been misconstrued - and with good reason. Those who are "in charge" or "in power" would like us to turn the other cheek. Never mind that what Jesus has in mind is an act of civil disobedience - a challenge to those in charge, at the time the Roman military. Jesus who at every turn resists evil was not counseling us not to resist evil - but rather offers strategies for confronting evil and exposing it for what it is - evil!
Rather, non-retaliation is meant to break the cycle of violence in confrontations of people of unequal power and status. A backhanded slap (only the right hand would be used) is meant to insult and humiliate. Turning the other cheek invites a second slap to be with the palm of the hand, which in the Roman Empire signaled the one being slapped as an equal. To be struck a second time with the palm would humiliate the one doing the slapping. So understood, no second slap would be made, breaking the cycle of violence which may be a step toward reconciliation.
Similarly, a debtor ending up naked before a magistrate, after handing over all garments to a creditor, places shame on said creditor - the assertion being that one who observes the nakedness is shamed. Finally, being impressed by a Roman Centurion to carry his backpack a mile but carrying it "the extra mile" creates a dilemma for the soldier who may be punished for exacting excessive service!
Oh, and if that were not enough, we are to welcome and greet our enemies, wishing for their well-being. That is, to be a welcoming Christian community means more than a friendly or even hearty salutation! It means loving our enemies.
Such strategies are acts of civil disobedience, not the actions of door-mat, milk-toast Christians, but rather forcing truth and justice to confront power, especially the power of domination and humiliation. Such is the way, it turns out, is the way of Perfection.
Such strategies were adopted by Ghandi in India, Martin King, Rosa Parks and Pauli Murray in America, and today in the streets of Cairo. One might even construe that our holding our ground in this chapel is in some way a living out of our Lord's command to Love our Neighbors.
That we are here this morning is in a great part thanks to those who have gone before us with lives of such spiritual perfection, risking come what may for the opportunity to worship and follow the Lord and Savior who calls us also to be perfect.
Now in Annapolis the struggle to speak truth to power continues on behalf of our gay and lesbian sisters and brothers. In the days ahead the drama will play out for equal rights and protection for those who wish to live in faithful, loving relationships. In Cairo, Yemen, Bahrain, Jordan, Iran, Afghanistan,, the streets of Baltimore and no doubt countless other places around the world, the struggle for equal rights and protection plays itself out in dramas like those Jesus portrays every day.
We pray for the greatest gift which is love to be poured into our hearts so that whatever we do will embody the kind of action and deeds that will identify us as faithful to the covenant into which we were baptized - a covenant that says we will seek and serve Christ in all persons, not some people, not a lot of people, but all people! A covenant that says we will strive for justice and peace for all people, not some people, not a lot of people, but all people.
This is what it means to be a people who choose life! This is what it means to be Holy. This is what it means to be perfect as our Father in heaven is perfect! For we belong to Christ, and Christ belongs to God!
Sadly, there is lots of loving that needs to be done both at home and abroad. The Good News is that God in Christ, through Baptism and Eucharist, equips us to be perfect as God is perfect, for the love of God has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us.
To" be perfect" is not an indictment of our failings: it is a promise that says we may love the world as God has loved us!
To God be the glory, this day and every day, Amen.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Nocturn Part 2
13 February 2011/Epiphany 6A – Deut 30: 15-20/Psalm 119: 1-8/1Cor 3:1-9/Mt 5:21-37
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, St. Peter’s at Ellicott Mills, Maryland
Nocturn Part 2
Poetry. I suspect we rarely think of it, but a substantial amount of our Sunday worship consists of poetry. The Psalms are Hebrew poetry. Many of the readings from the prophets are in Hebrew Poetry. Even some of the lessons texts from the Christian Scriptures are written in Greek poetry. And all the hymn texts are poetry of one kind or another.
We are hard pressed to define precisely what poetry is. Yet, it is broadly believed that the art of poetry pre-dates literacy, and the oldest known examples of poetry date back to over 2000 years before the common era – before the time of Jesus. And all the oldest preserved poems, composed so as to be recited and passed on from one generation to the next, reflect on life’s deepest mysteries seeking imaginative meaning from our life’s experiences.
Epiphany, we say, is the Season of Light – it begins with the light of the Star leading countless numbers of Magi, “wise men,” to the place where God arrives as a tiny baby, and concludes with the Transfiguration of Jesus shining blindingly brightly white on a mountain top chatting with Moses and Elijah – two earlier prophets who had their own fiery, blindingly white moments as well. To say Epiphany is the Season of Light is to employ metaphor. Poetry, not content to simply deploy legions of metaphors to examine the mystery of life ultimately contends that all language, each word, is metaphor – a word-symbol attempting to describe even the most mundane of human experience, and yet never quite capable of fully embodying such experience itself. So we often say, “Words fail us.”
Makes one wonder why we work so hard at trying to be “literal” – so hard at trying to pin-down precise understandings in a constantly changing, living and evolving universe – so hard to be exacting in just what is exactly happening – just what did happen in a tiny, outlying village of the once vast and mighty Empire of Rome! Language and words express at once both our comfort and our restlessness with all that life sends and has sent our way.
So it is I have found myself contemplating a bit of a poem I read several weeks ago as I was preparing to lead worship with the small but faithful continuing community at Mount Calvary. It is by W. S. Merwin, who happened to be poet in residence one semester while I attended Trinity College in Hartford, CT.
In a poem titled Nocturne Merwin writes:
The stars emerge one/by one into the names
that were last found for them/far back in other
darkness no one remembers/by watchers whose own
names were forgotten/later in the dark
and as the night deepens/other lumens begin
to appear around them/as though they were shining
through the same instant/from a single depth of age
though the time between/each one of them
and its nearest neighbor/contains in its span
the whole moment of the earth/turning in a light
that is not its own/with the complete course
of life upon it/born to brief reflection
recognition and anguish/from one cell evolving
to remember daylight/laughter and distant music
I was struck by the words: "the whole moment of the earth/turning in a light
that is not its own/with the complete course/of life upon it/born to brief reflection"
The earth does not produce light for the universe, it reflects the light of the Sun and other stars. As we turn, we move from light to darkness to light and to darkness over and over again, 365 times a year. Any light that we make on earth is recycled Sun light stored as coal, oil, natural gas, tallow, beeswax, all of which can be made to produce light - but its source is still the Sun.
Last Sunday Jesus said "you are the light of the world." I take this to mean that like the earth, we are called to reflect “The Light of Christ” we sing about in the Easter Vigil, represented by the Paschal Candle that stands next to the Baptismal Font. In the continuation of his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus begins to unpack that metaphor, detailing just what it means to be “the light of the world.” Echoing Deuteronomy, he calls us to “choose life” as the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob has painstakingly detailed such a choice again and again throughout the history of God’s people.
In the opening lines of the Bible’s longest poem, Psalm 119, we learn that our happiness depends on our choosing to “walk in the way of the Lord…observe his decrees, and seek him with all our heart". Which I imagine begins with carefully observing what way the Lord walks so we might walk in that same way.
A careful reading of Deuteronomy reveals that this way we are to walk entails canceling the debts of the poor (15:1-11), pushing government to guard against excessive wealth (18:8-20), limiting punishment to protect human dignity (19:1-7), offering hospitality to runaway slaves (23:15-16), paying employees fairly (24: 14-15), and leaving part of the harvest for those who need it (24:19-22).
To which Paul adds in his correspondence to a poorly behaving church in Corinth that there should be no quarreling among us, no jealousy, and no allegiance to human leadership, but rather only to align oneself with Christ – “For we are God’s servants working together; you are God’s field, God’s building."
To all of which Jesus is only getting going when he adds that if we are in conflict with one of our sisters or brothers, we are to go and seek restoration or reconciliation with that person before we bring or gifts to the altar. Note the assumption and emphasis that we are to bring gifts to the altar, AND we are to be a reconciling community first and foremost – so we might kneel before the Lord with a clear conscience and lighter heart.
In all this, Jesus reveals God – God’s nature and God’s intent for humankind. In this, Jesus is the light and life of the world. Unpacking this poetic metaphor reveals the myriad ways in which we can walk in God’s way. We say, “The devil is in the details,” but in this case, it is “The Way of the Lord” that is in the details.
We are called to reflect the Light of Christ, much the way the Earth reflects the light and life of the Sun. From “out there” among the stars we know how beautiful this fragile earth our island home looks to those who have been out there to see. How much more beautiful would life on Earth look were we to commit ourselves to making the choice God invites us to make?
“Choose life so that you and your descendents may live.” The Way of the Lord entails choices, not just for our own sake, but for the sake of all humankind from this day forward. There can be no other choice we are called upon to make more important than this. When we so choose, the world will be bathed not only in Sunlight, but with the Light of Christ – and the Glory of the Lord shall be revealed! Amen.
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, St. Peter’s at Ellicott Mills, Maryland
Nocturn Part 2
Poetry. I suspect we rarely think of it, but a substantial amount of our Sunday worship consists of poetry. The Psalms are Hebrew poetry. Many of the readings from the prophets are in Hebrew Poetry. Even some of the lessons texts from the Christian Scriptures are written in Greek poetry. And all the hymn texts are poetry of one kind or another.
We are hard pressed to define precisely what poetry is. Yet, it is broadly believed that the art of poetry pre-dates literacy, and the oldest known examples of poetry date back to over 2000 years before the common era – before the time of Jesus. And all the oldest preserved poems, composed so as to be recited and passed on from one generation to the next, reflect on life’s deepest mysteries seeking imaginative meaning from our life’s experiences.
Epiphany, we say, is the Season of Light – it begins with the light of the Star leading countless numbers of Magi, “wise men,” to the place where God arrives as a tiny baby, and concludes with the Transfiguration of Jesus shining blindingly brightly white on a mountain top chatting with Moses and Elijah – two earlier prophets who had their own fiery, blindingly white moments as well. To say Epiphany is the Season of Light is to employ metaphor. Poetry, not content to simply deploy legions of metaphors to examine the mystery of life ultimately contends that all language, each word, is metaphor – a word-symbol attempting to describe even the most mundane of human experience, and yet never quite capable of fully embodying such experience itself. So we often say, “Words fail us.”
Makes one wonder why we work so hard at trying to be “literal” – so hard at trying to pin-down precise understandings in a constantly changing, living and evolving universe – so hard to be exacting in just what is exactly happening – just what did happen in a tiny, outlying village of the once vast and mighty Empire of Rome! Language and words express at once both our comfort and our restlessness with all that life sends and has sent our way.
So it is I have found myself contemplating a bit of a poem I read several weeks ago as I was preparing to lead worship with the small but faithful continuing community at Mount Calvary. It is by W. S. Merwin, who happened to be poet in residence one semester while I attended Trinity College in Hartford, CT.
In a poem titled Nocturne Merwin writes:
The stars emerge one/by one into the names
that were last found for them/far back in other
darkness no one remembers/by watchers whose own
names were forgotten/later in the dark
and as the night deepens/other lumens begin
to appear around them/as though they were shining
through the same instant/from a single depth of age
though the time between/each one of them
and its nearest neighbor/contains in its span
the whole moment of the earth/turning in a light
that is not its own/with the complete course
of life upon it/born to brief reflection
recognition and anguish/from one cell evolving
to remember daylight/laughter and distant music
I was struck by the words: "the whole moment of the earth/turning in a light
that is not its own/with the complete course/of life upon it/born to brief reflection"
The earth does not produce light for the universe, it reflects the light of the Sun and other stars. As we turn, we move from light to darkness to light and to darkness over and over again, 365 times a year. Any light that we make on earth is recycled Sun light stored as coal, oil, natural gas, tallow, beeswax, all of which can be made to produce light - but its source is still the Sun.
Last Sunday Jesus said "you are the light of the world." I take this to mean that like the earth, we are called to reflect “The Light of Christ” we sing about in the Easter Vigil, represented by the Paschal Candle that stands next to the Baptismal Font. In the continuation of his Sermon on the Mount, Jesus begins to unpack that metaphor, detailing just what it means to be “the light of the world.” Echoing Deuteronomy, he calls us to “choose life” as the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob has painstakingly detailed such a choice again and again throughout the history of God’s people.
In the opening lines of the Bible’s longest poem, Psalm 119, we learn that our happiness depends on our choosing to “walk in the way of the Lord…observe his decrees, and seek him with all our heart". Which I imagine begins with carefully observing what way the Lord walks so we might walk in that same way.
A careful reading of Deuteronomy reveals that this way we are to walk entails canceling the debts of the poor (15:1-11), pushing government to guard against excessive wealth (18:8-20), limiting punishment to protect human dignity (19:1-7), offering hospitality to runaway slaves (23:15-16), paying employees fairly (24: 14-15), and leaving part of the harvest for those who need it (24:19-22).
To which Paul adds in his correspondence to a poorly behaving church in Corinth that there should be no quarreling among us, no jealousy, and no allegiance to human leadership, but rather only to align oneself with Christ – “For we are God’s servants working together; you are God’s field, God’s building."
To all of which Jesus is only getting going when he adds that if we are in conflict with one of our sisters or brothers, we are to go and seek restoration or reconciliation with that person before we bring or gifts to the altar. Note the assumption and emphasis that we are to bring gifts to the altar, AND we are to be a reconciling community first and foremost – so we might kneel before the Lord with a clear conscience and lighter heart.
In all this, Jesus reveals God – God’s nature and God’s intent for humankind. In this, Jesus is the light and life of the world. Unpacking this poetic metaphor reveals the myriad ways in which we can walk in God’s way. We say, “The devil is in the details,” but in this case, it is “The Way of the Lord” that is in the details.
We are called to reflect the Light of Christ, much the way the Earth reflects the light and life of the Sun. From “out there” among the stars we know how beautiful this fragile earth our island home looks to those who have been out there to see. How much more beautiful would life on Earth look were we to commit ourselves to making the choice God invites us to make?
“Choose life so that you and your descendents may live.” The Way of the Lord entails choices, not just for our own sake, but for the sake of all humankind from this day forward. There can be no other choice we are called upon to make more important than this. When we so choose, the world will be bathed not only in Sunlight, but with the Light of Christ – and the Glory of the Lord shall be revealed! Amen.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
You Are The Light of The World
6 February 2011/Epiphany5A - Matthew 5:13-20
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Mount Calvary Episcopal Church, Baltimore
Let Your Light Shine
The middle of winter is usually a dark time. The days are short -often cloudy. There is rain, freezing rain and snow. Add to that the darkness of the world around us - wars, rumors of wars, struggles in the streets, natural catastrophes, not to mention the painful darkness of this city day and night, and the darkness that threatens to take over the life of the church. Darkness can be a pervasive state of being.
Last Sunday as I was preparing to celebrate the Eucharist, I read a poem that got me to think about light - a central metaphor in our Lord's continuing Sermon on the Mount. W. S Merwin in a poem titled Nocturne writes:
The stars emerge one/by one into the names
that were last found for them/far back in other
darkness no one remembers/by watchers whose own
names were forgotten/later in the dark
and as the night deepens/other lumens begin
to appear around them/as though they were shining
through the same instant/from a single depth of age
though the time between/each one of them
and its nearest neighbor/contains in its span
the whole moment of the earth/turning in a light
that is not its own/with the complete course
of life upon it/born to brief reflection
recognition and anguish/from one cell evolving
to remember daylight/laughter and distant music
I was struck by the words, "the whole moment of the earth/turning in a light/that is not its own."
The earth does not produce light for the universe, it reflects the light of the Sun and other stars. As we turn, we move from light to darkness to light and to darkness over and over again, 365 times a year. Any light that we make on earth is recycled Sun light stored as coal, oil, natural gas, tallow, beeswax, all of which can be made to produce light - but its source is still the Sun.
Jesus says we are "the light of the world." Just as Simeon says about the baby Jesus as his parents bring him to dedicate him at the Jerusalem Temple, he will be "light to enlighten the gentiles.". Echoing the prophet Isaiah, "I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations." (Is 42:6b) Which in turn echoes God's promise to make Abraham and his descendents a blessing to "all the families of the earth." (Gen 12:3b)
Isaiah says those who are "light of the world" do so to "open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness." (Is 42:7)
These words have inspired many. One we remember this week, Absalom Jones, the first African American priest in the Episcopal Church. Another would be Pauli Murray, the first African American woman made a priest in our church. These words about light inspired the likes of Martin and Bayard, Rosa and Ruby and countless others who stood amidst a world of darkness and shined the light of Christ into every corner of this darkened land to secure the freedom for all people - be they black or white, male or female, Jew or Gentile, slave or free.
Like the earth, they were not the light itself - the light that St. John says is life - the light that St. John says shines in the darkness, "and the darkness has not overcome it." (John 1:4-5) When Jesus says that "You are the light of the world," he means that as the earth reflects the light of the sun, as we recycle the stored light of the sun, we are to reflect the Light of Christ - we are to absorb and store his light within us such that whenever it is needed, we can be the "light of the world."
And Lord knows, the world is in need of a powerful lot of light! Jesus has chosen us to shine his light into the dark corners of this world - to open the eyes of those who cannot see the injustices that are wrought upon God's people in the names of power, corporate interests, national security and any number of sources of darkness and its sister, oppression. Absalom Jones, a man who secured his wife's freedom before his own, a man who would not sit in the balcony but would one day stand at the Altar of the Lord reflected this light. Sister Pauli who herself would stand at that same Altar to let the world see and hear that a black woman could represent the light of Christ to the world reflected his light.
Each of us carries at least a spark of the light of Christ. Gather our sparks together and we can light the whole world!
We sometimes forget the power of a simple song to shine light into the world. Whenever I listen to Paul Robeson sing it, This Little Light of Mine reverberates through my heart and soul to remind me why I was washed in the blood of the lamb at Baptism - to join my light with that of Absalom, Pauli, Ruby, Rosa, Martin and Bayard, and with each one of us here this day to be regenerated as ministers of the Gospel of Jesus Christ on this dark corner of our city in these cold and dreary days of winter.
This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.
Everywhere I go, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.
All through the night, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.
In order for the light to be seen, we must go where darkness exists. If you want to look at the stars, writes Annie Dillard, you find that darkness is necessary.
The light we are called to be shines in all darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it.
And for that simple truth we say,
Amen.
The Reverend Kirk Alan Kubicek, Mount Calvary Episcopal Church, Baltimore
Let Your Light Shine
The middle of winter is usually a dark time. The days are short -often cloudy. There is rain, freezing rain and snow. Add to that the darkness of the world around us - wars, rumors of wars, struggles in the streets, natural catastrophes, not to mention the painful darkness of this city day and night, and the darkness that threatens to take over the life of the church. Darkness can be a pervasive state of being.
Last Sunday as I was preparing to celebrate the Eucharist, I read a poem that got me to think about light - a central metaphor in our Lord's continuing Sermon on the Mount. W. S Merwin in a poem titled Nocturne writes:
The stars emerge one/by one into the names
that were last found for them/far back in other
darkness no one remembers/by watchers whose own
names were forgotten/later in the dark
and as the night deepens/other lumens begin
to appear around them/as though they were shining
through the same instant/from a single depth of age
though the time between/each one of them
and its nearest neighbor/contains in its span
the whole moment of the earth/turning in a light
that is not its own/with the complete course
of life upon it/born to brief reflection
recognition and anguish/from one cell evolving
to remember daylight/laughter and distant music
I was struck by the words, "the whole moment of the earth/turning in a light/that is not its own."
The earth does not produce light for the universe, it reflects the light of the Sun and other stars. As we turn, we move from light to darkness to light and to darkness over and over again, 365 times a year. Any light that we make on earth is recycled Sun light stored as coal, oil, natural gas, tallow, beeswax, all of which can be made to produce light - but its source is still the Sun.
Jesus says we are "the light of the world." Just as Simeon says about the baby Jesus as his parents bring him to dedicate him at the Jerusalem Temple, he will be "light to enlighten the gentiles.". Echoing the prophet Isaiah, "I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations." (Is 42:6b) Which in turn echoes God's promise to make Abraham and his descendents a blessing to "all the families of the earth." (Gen 12:3b)
Isaiah says those who are "light of the world" do so to "open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness." (Is 42:7)
These words have inspired many. One we remember this week, Absalom Jones, the first African American priest in the Episcopal Church. Another would be Pauli Murray, the first African American woman made a priest in our church. These words about light inspired the likes of Martin and Bayard, Rosa and Ruby and countless others who stood amidst a world of darkness and shined the light of Christ into every corner of this darkened land to secure the freedom for all people - be they black or white, male or female, Jew or Gentile, slave or free.
Like the earth, they were not the light itself - the light that St. John says is life - the light that St. John says shines in the darkness, "and the darkness has not overcome it." (John 1:4-5) When Jesus says that "You are the light of the world," he means that as the earth reflects the light of the sun, as we recycle the stored light of the sun, we are to reflect the Light of Christ - we are to absorb and store his light within us such that whenever it is needed, we can be the "light of the world."
And Lord knows, the world is in need of a powerful lot of light! Jesus has chosen us to shine his light into the dark corners of this world - to open the eyes of those who cannot see the injustices that are wrought upon God's people in the names of power, corporate interests, national security and any number of sources of darkness and its sister, oppression. Absalom Jones, a man who secured his wife's freedom before his own, a man who would not sit in the balcony but would one day stand at the Altar of the Lord reflected this light. Sister Pauli who herself would stand at that same Altar to let the world see and hear that a black woman could represent the light of Christ to the world reflected his light.
Each of us carries at least a spark of the light of Christ. Gather our sparks together and we can light the whole world!
We sometimes forget the power of a simple song to shine light into the world. Whenever I listen to Paul Robeson sing it, This Little Light of Mine reverberates through my heart and soul to remind me why I was washed in the blood of the lamb at Baptism - to join my light with that of Absalom, Pauli, Ruby, Rosa, Martin and Bayard, and with each one of us here this day to be regenerated as ministers of the Gospel of Jesus Christ on this dark corner of our city in these cold and dreary days of winter.
This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.
Everywhere I go, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.
All through the night, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.
In order for the light to be seen, we must go where darkness exists. If you want to look at the stars, writes Annie Dillard, you find that darkness is necessary.
The light we are called to be shines in all darkness,
and the darkness has not overcome it.
And for that simple truth we say,
Amen.
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