being still in God's big world

Tag: Sermon

There is No Room for Fear in Love

A sermon preached on 24 February 2019 at St. Oswald’s, Maybole, Scotland. The readings for the day were the readings assigned for 7 Epiphany, Year C.

Love your enemies.

Pray for those who abuse you.

Bless those who curse you.

Do good to those who hate you.

This has been a difficult week in the news and Jesus is not making it any easier with the Gospel lesson assigned for this week.

Shamima Begum, a British teenager who has just given birth to a beautiful baby boy in a refugee camp in Syria, has been stripped of her UK citizenship. Four years ago, at the age of 15, Shamima stole her sister’s passport and ran away to join the Islamic State – marrying a 27-year-old Dutch convert to Islam who is now a soldier for the IS. She has spent the past few years living, in her own words – as a housewife, giving birth to three children – only one of whom survives, her husband has now been captured and she was forced to flee to a refugee camp when the violence became to great.

Shamima was born, raised, and educated in the UK. She was radicalised by propaganda made by the IS and circulated online. She, and her two 16-year-old friends, made a pact and left the UK together – without knowledge, support, or permission from their parents.

Listening to the interview Shamima gave to the media, you can hear and see as she mumbles and murmurs like a teenager. Her answers are not fully formed thoughts and the interviewer pushes her to think through what she is saying. Her lack of sophistication and obvious immaturity are striking. But the heinous nature of the crimes of the IS against people in the Western world, including those of us living here in the UK, is undeniable. Terrorism, murder, and violent attacks cause us to live in a state of fear. Regardless of Shamima thinking of herself merely as a housewife, many in the UK think of her as a symbol of our enemies and we would rather keep our enemies as far away as possible, thank you very much.

Love your enemies.

Pray for those who abuse you.

Do good to those who hate you.

Bless those who curse you.

In our passage from the Gospel of Luke this morning, we hear a continuation of Jesus’ Sermon on the Plain. Last week we heard some of the beatitudes from this same Sermon – last week’s Gospel talked of the top dogs and the underdogs – reminding us that those who struggle now will be blessed by our God in Heaven and those who are distracted by the material wealth and trappings of this world may enjoy those things now, but woe on them as those distractions also distract one from relationship with God. This week, Jesus gets right down to the nitty-gritty, calling on Christians to love and bless and pray for those whom we’d rather shun, shut out, and turn away. Jesus raises the bar on us, once again, asking more than humanly possible – which reminds us that we are totally dependent on God; because God’s Grace is more abundant and understanding than ours ever can be on its own.

Episcopalians talk a lot about the Love and Grace of God; our liturgy even proclaims that “God is love and we are God’s children. There is no room for fear in Love…”

We listen as the priest proclaims those words each week, but until this week – this news – this Gospel – I didn’t internalize the weight of those words.

There is no room for fear in love.

And yet…

I am afraid.

I am afraid every day because of the violence and hatred around the world. I am afraid of the racism and subsequent abuse and violence I hear about and witness online, and sometimes in real life. I am afraid because of the “active shooter drills” my friends’ children have to practice in their American schools to prepare for the inevitability of another school shooting. I am afraid, because a 15-year-old British schoolgirl can watch videos online that convince her to run away from the love of her family to find a supposedly better life in the arms of a terrorist organization. I am afraid.

There is no room for fear in love. But I am still afraid.

I am afraid and I also wonder, what the news would have been this week if the British schoolgirl in question had white skin?  Would we be so quick to make her stateless if she looked more like “one of us?” I know this is a complex question, especially considering the recent history of domestic terrorism in Northern Ireland, but I still wonder…

There is no room for fear in love. But I am still afraid.

We are all afraid, a lot of the time. Our fear prevents us from doing big things and small things. Our fear causes us to give up on dreams, close ourselves off from opportunities, and to settle for something less than the goodness God wants for us.

I am here with you today in my role as Canon Missioner. I am here to get to know you and to celebrate the successes of your Mission Action Planning and to look boldly towards your future mission. I doubt very much most of you expected me to come here today and to preach a sermon that could be considered so controversial; I assure you, no one is more surprised than I am. But, you see, living our lives as disciples of Jesus Christ is controversial. This is a necessary fact because Jesus was a radial figure in his own time and still is today. Jesus was God made human, who came to earth preaching a Gospel of impossibly possible Love, impossibly possible Grace, and impossibly possible Forgiveness. He didn’t shy away from taking a stand against tyranny, oppression, legalism, and hatred; and he pushed his followers to do the same. Jesus was so controversial he was eventually nailed to a tree.  

Our call as Christians in this place and time is to bring Jesus’ radically inclusive message of impossibly-possible Love to the world we live in today. And that message is desperately needed. Anyone who has spent any time reading the comments section on an article on the Internet knows that-Love is needed. Anyone who has spent time walking the halls of a secondary knows that-Love is needed. Anyone who struggles with depression, anxiety, addiction, or fear knows that-Love is needed. So how do we find where is God calling St. Oswald’s in your future mission? I’d start by asking the question: “who most needs that-Love (God’s Love) right now?”

Perpetua the Every-Woman

The following sermon was preached at the University Chapel at Glasgow University for the Feast of Sts. Perpetua and Felicity. The gospel text was John  4:1-26 (Jesus and the Samaritan Woman.)


Imagine the scene: Crowds of spectators flooding the stadium to watch the brutal torture and murder of people guilty only of faith in “the wrong God.” Wild beasts and soldiers bearing arms are set to task, tearing the martyrs apart in front of the glee-filled assembly. Sounds terrifying, but not unbelievable – which I think is the scariest part of the whole scene.

Today we memorialize the martyrdom of Felicity and Perpetua – two women imprisoned in northern Africa in 203CE and put to death along with 3 male companions after their baptisms in the prison. As the lore goes, Perpetua was a widowed young mother and noblewoman who was in her catechumenate (time of study before being baptised into the faith) when she was arrested. Felicity, a pregnant servant, was arrested alongside Perpetua and is said to have given birth in prison before the sentence of death was carried out. Perpetua’s father tried to intervene several times, but each time Perpetua refused to deny her faith in order to be released.

We have record of their story by virtue of what is thought to be Perpetua’s diary. Perpetua spent her time in prison recording testimony of her faith and her visions of a miraculous life to come in Heaven.

This testimony, or diary, reminds me of another such document that we have in more modern literature – the Diary of Anne Frank. Frank, who was imprisoned in a different way – in an effort to keep her and her family safe, dreamed of a better life when she might once again be free to experience all that the world had to offer.

And further, as I think about the plight of these women: Perpetua and Anne, my mind is brought to Pakistan, and the then 15 year old girl, shot in the face by a Taliban soldier who was sent to kill her for speaking out as an activist for equal access to education for women and girls. Malala Yusafazai, now 19, lives in Birmingham and continues to fight for equal access to education. From there my thoughts travel to Syria and to Bana Alabed, the 7 year old girl who took to twitter to tell the world, 140 characters at a time, about the atrocities happening in Aleppo.

The list goes on and on and on. Throughout history, women like Perpetua have fought to get their stories out even in the face of unspeakable odds.

In our lesson from John’s Gospel we hear of one such woman, whose experience is recorded by our Gospel writer. Though her name is not preserved, as was so often the case with stories of woman in the scriptures, her encounter with the Living God in the person of Jesus Christ, illuminates for us the life changing power of meeting God face to face.

The Samaritan Woman learns from Jesus about a new type of water – of living water – that quenches the deepest thirst of our souls. She desires this water and Jesus tells her how to obtain that well of eternal life. Jesus demonstrates that he knows this woman in all ways, both her sins and her virtues, yet instead of condemning her, he tells her how she might be atoned. He offers her a path to a better life instead of condemning her to death by beasts or gas chambers or Taliban fighters or cluster bombs. Jesus reaches out his hand in love and offers the Samaritan woman another way.

What would happen if more people responded to difference the way Jesus does in this story?

The fact that this woman is a Samaritan matters. Many of us likely remember the story of the “Good Samaritan.” A man is beaten and robbed and left for dead by the roadside. A priest and then a Levite (both presumably good, Jewish men) pass by the man, crossing the road to avoid an encounter. But then a Samaritan comes by, stops, and takes the beaten man away to safety.

The Samaritans practiced a form of Judaism that was outside of the mainstream and was considered unorthodox and blasphemous. Thus, the Samaritans were often thought of, in biblical times, as a crowd worshiping the wrong way and thus not people you wanted to fall into company with.

So, who are the Samaritans today?

I guess it depends on where we are looking: In the US the Samaritans would probably be the illegal immigrants who are being rounded up and deported without due process or they might be the Muslims who are being denied entry to the US simply because of the God they worship. In Britain, the Samaritans might be those who voted for, or against, Brexit – depending on what side of the political arena one finds ones self. They might be the immigrants wondering how long they will be welcome here after we leave the European Union. In Glasgow the Samaritans might be the Protestants, or the Catholics, once again, depending on which side of sectarianism one finds oneself.

There are Samaritans everywhere we go – who they are is determined by where we live.

In many places, the Samaritans are the women who are striving to get their stories out into a world where gender is still a major factor when considering what rights an individual is entitled to.

Today we commemorate Perpetua and Felicity for their strength and courage in the face of a world that not only sentenced them to death, but also a world where it is a miracle that any account of their lives still exists.

We relate to their story because women are still fighting to be heard today.

Whether it is women who were condemned for having too many husbands in biblical times (when the reverse would have been perfectly acceptable) or women who have the audacity to expect the right to be educated in modern middle eastern society, the rights of women and men are still different. But what we take from today’s lesson, is that in the eyes of God we are entitled to equality not only in this life, but in the life that is to come. The Living Water is equally available to all who seek its nourishment.

The Feast of Perpetua and Felicity is unique not only because we have an early record of the visions and dreams Perpetua experienced during her captivity and because of the recorded accounts of the peace and “ecstasy” she and her companions experienced as they were put to death, but also because the record of this occasion is the written account, authored by a woman, that survived against all odds in a place and at a time when the written accounts of woman were destroyed and cast off as heretical. Today we celebrate the lives and legacies of these two women – as they represent the every-woman.

Our call today is to look out and see where we find Samaritans in this world and to seek to give them voice. Our call today is the same as it has always been, to be the hands and heart and voice of Christ in this world and to proclaim the existence of a God of love who desires to uplift and hold close the hearts of all human beings – regardless of the markers that divide us – because we were all created in God’s own image. Our call today is to follow in the bold and brave footsteps of Perpetua and Felicity; to tell the truth, come what may, all the while seeking justice, loving mercy, and walking humbly with our God.


Opportunity to Choose – a sermon for the first Sunday in Lent

There was recently a social experiment shared through a video online.  Forregret one full day a chalk board hung on a fence in NYC with the question: “What is your biggest regret?” written across the top. Throughout the day passersby were invited to take a piece of colored chalk and write their regret on the board. No one was interviewed; the organizers never even learned the names of those who wrote those intimate thoughts on the board. At the end of the video they highlighted that a majority of the “regrets” started with the word “not” – they were chances not taken, paths left unexplored, etc… The board was littered with what ifs…[1]

I found the video interesting and shared it to see what response it might get from others in my circles. A high school classmate engaged the question and asked another in response: What if the question they explored was phrased as a positive rather than a negative? What if they asked folks what they didn’t regret in life? Would they get the path that lay opposite from the “regret?” The path that was taken?

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.[2]

“Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness where, for forty days, he was tempted by the devil.” (John 4:1-2a)

Did Jesus regret the road not taken?

We learn in our Gospel lesson for this morning that Jesus was led by the Holy Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by Satan immediately after his baptism in the River Jordan. This marks the beginning of his ministry and I can’t help by think that Jesus might have hoped for a better “first assignment.” What other opportunities were in front of him at the time? What did he have to say “no” to in order to say “yes” to the Spirit’s leadership?

That’s the thing, isn’t it: Life is full of choices. In order to backpack Europe for a year after college one has to forego the internship at the prestigious company that will set you up for the future. In order to stay home caring for the ailing parent one has to pass up the opportunity to finally have an empty nest after 18 or more years of a full house. In order to become what we are called to be we have to make a hundred choices a day – and sometimes we will wonder what would have happened if we went the other way.

Once Jesus enters the wilderness his time of decision-making is far from over:

  • Turn these stones into bread or starve.
  • Deny God and have kingdoms, realms, and power handed to you.
  • Prove your worth by doing as I say or be called a coward.

Even after Jesus “passes” every test, the last line of our passage says the devil only “departed from him until an opportune time.” (Luke 4:13) This implication that these trials were not the end of Jesus’ temptations on earth fly in the face of what is commonly assumed about Jesus – that he was immune to temptation in his ministry after the desert trials. But if we look to the Jesus of our scriptures: sometimes angry or hot headed, expressing frustration, retreating for communion with God – we find that our Lord was truly fully human AND fully God – he faced the temptation of decision-making just as we do.

When we come to the divergent paths in the woods we always must make a choice – it won’t always be a cut and dry, right vs. wrong decision. There are many times that we must choose between two good things. There are times when we must choose between the known and the unknown. There are times when we must chose between action and inaction; silence and busyness; companionship or desert times. Lent is a season when we choose to make choices aimed at bringing us in closer relationship to God – saying no to distraction and yes to spiritual practices. Why is it that we need a season of invitation to do this?

Probably because the temptation is too great and we need an annual reboot to remind us to: turn our hearts away from sin and towards our God. (Acts 3:19)

As we talk about turning our hearts we cannot forget that today is Valentine’s Day. But rather than making each of you a construction paper heart edged with lacy doilies, perhaps instead we should consider the life of the Saint from whom this day is set aside. There is not much reliably known about the Saint aside from the fact that he was martyred on February 14th, likely in the year 269.[3] The popular story goes like this:

vdaySaint Valentine was a Roman priest at the time when Emperor Claudius was persecuting the church in a variety of ways. Among the persecutions against the people was Claudius’ edict against the marriage of young people. Claudius believed that young soldiers in the Roman army would fight more bravely if they were not worried about wives and children back home. Thus, Claudius condemned the sacrament of marriage for all men of fighting age. Valentine believed that Claudius was overstepping his bounds and continued to marry young Christian couples in secret. Claudius learned of this and flew into a rage. He summoned Valentine who tried to convert the emperor – this further upset the emperor and Claudius ordered Valentine tortured and imprisoned to stand trial for his crimes.[4]

When it came time to stand trial, a man named Asterius was assigned his judge. Asterius’ daughter was blind and legend has it that Valentine prayed for Asterius’ daughter and she was healed of her blindness – causing Asterius to convert to Christianity. Eventually, Valentine’s trial resumed and he was sentenced to a three-part execution of beating, stoning, and finally decapitation.[5]

Just makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside – doesn’t it?

It is rumored that the last letter Valentine wrote was to the Asterius’ daughter and that he signed it: From Your Valentine – inspiring the tradition of sending love notes to one’s significant other on Valentine’s day.

“What Valentine means to me as a priest,” explains Father Frank O’Gara, “is that there comes a time where you have to lay your life upon the line for what you believe. And with the power of the Holy Spirit we can do that — even to the point of death.”[6]

“Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit into the wilderness where, for forty days, he was tempted by the devil.” (John 4:1-2a)

Usually when we hear that someone is full of the Holy Spirit it is a time of joy, mystery, and wonder. Yet in the example of Jesus and of Saint Valentine we learn that the power of the Holy Spirit can inspire us to walk in the path laid before us, even when that road is challenging or long. The question the experiment leaders in New York City asked was wofork-in-the-roadrded in just the right way to get the answer they were seeking. If I were to do the same experiment I would ask: “How have your regrets been redeemed?”

When asked in the negative we can all come up with decisions we’ve made that we wish had gone another way – but without each of those choices we would not be who we are today. This Lenten season, we have the opportunity to be intentional about the choices we make and the pathways we follow. What will influence the choices you make?

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.[7]




[2] The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost





[7] The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost

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