Scott AndersonJeremiah 20:7-13 † Psalm 69:7-18 † Romans 6:1-11 † Matthew 10:24-39
A video of this meditation can be found here. The Jeremiah text caught me this week. I’m sure it’s the moment, the week, the flood of events that have turned our hearts and our attention toward realities that have been in plain sight for centuries and yet less noticed by me, a white male with layers of privilege that buffer my experience. Perhaps you too. My mother never gave me “the talk.” There was no need. I remember, in fact, a night in Marietta Georgia while I was a seminary student. Barb and I were out with some friends—a professor of mine, actually and his wife. I was driving. It’s a blur almost 30 years ago now. I took a right, I think. And then flashing blue lights. Then that feeling in the pit of my stomach. We pulled over, and looking back now, it’s almost as if I was possessed. I was obstinate—I mean more than usual, if you can believe that! Rude even, to the officer. I don’t know why. I can’t even explain it. Even in the moment I had the feeling of floating outside of my body, watching myself, unable to control what I was saying. Perhaps I was embarrassed in front of these friends. There’s no excuse for it. Here’s the thing, though. The officer was professional. He responded in measured tones. The encounter ended, and we were on our way. Had a few factors been different, who knows what might have happened? A black mother knows. Many black mothers know all too well. I suspect, Jeremiah knows. …whenever I speak, I must cry out, I must shout, “Violence and destruction!
0 Comments
Maggie Breen Exodus 19:2-8a † Psalm 100 † Romans 5:1-8 † Matthew 9:35-10:8 (9-23)
A video version of this sermon can be found here. These are the names of the twelve apostles: first, Simon, also known as Peter, and his brother Andrew; James son of Zebedee, and his brother John; 3 Philip and Bartholomew; Thomas and Matthew the tax collector; James son of Alphaeus, and Thaddaeus; 4 Simon the Cananaean, and Judas Iscariot, the one who betrayed him. Ordinary people. Middle eastern men compelled by the words and the actions of Jesus. Something happens when we say a person’s name. We remember their humanity. Perhaps it’s the names of people we have placed on a pedestal: Andrew, James, Mary, Tabitha. We say their names and we remember – human just like us. Perhaps it’s the names of people brutalized: Emmett, Trayvon, George, Charlene. We say their names and we remember – human just like us. Human with gifts and hopes. Humans: beloved of God. There is a phrase in this week’s gospel that with some other phrases in these sacred texts have been used by Christians over time to set humans apart. Scott AndersonGenesis 1:1-2:4a † Psalm 8 † 2 Corinthians 13:11-12 † Matthew 28:16-20 You may want to grab onto something and hold on for the next couple of minutes. This may be a bumpy ride, but worth it, I hope. We’ve been talking a lot these past few weeks since the death of George Floyd about systemic racism, and systems of oppression and privilege. This language may be new for some of us, and old hat for others, but I suspect it is a value for all of us, every now and then, to remember our story in the United States as one way of understanding these systems that support white supremacy. Here we go.[i] Maggie BreenActs 2:1-21 † Psalm 104 † 1 Corinthians 12:3b-13 † John 20:19-23
I have been thinking about language for quite a while now. If I had to pinpoint when I first started to think about language more than I ever had, it was probably after I came to this country, and I uttered the word schedule for the first time. Now let me be clear, I have never been ridiculed or made to feel bad because of the way I speak or the words I use. Quite the opposite in fact. As I have uttered words like aluminum, and garage and rubbish, these things have been a source of many delightful conversations and reminiscences with new friends about my home country. At the same time, I pretty quickly learned to change the way I speak. I am all schedule and aluminum and trash these day. It’s fun to talk about Scotland, always will be, but at the same time, I want to belong. In more recent times my ponderings about language – the ways we communicate, the ways we try to understand and be understood - have been impacted by working with folks for whom English is not a first language and by seeing my daughter Megan go to live in Chile for a while. I heard from these people that being immersed in a place where you are completely surrounded by a language that is not your own is frankly exhausting. Early nights and overwhelmed emotions are common for folks who think and process naturally in a language different from the one they are surrounded by, different from the one that they must engage if they are to make their way through a day, a week a life. Scott AndersonFlow. That’s the imprecise, yet perfect word that science uses to refer to what happens when you’re in the zone. Dr. Girija Kaimal explains it this way in a recent NPR piece: “It's that sense of losing yourself, losing all awareness. You're so in the moment and fully present that you forget all sense of time and space.”[i] Teresa Platin recommended the article for our fascinating Digging Deeper conversation last Tuesday. She invited us to reflect together about our experience with creativity in these uncertain and stressful times.
Flow. We know the concept, I suspect. It’s not just artists that experience it. Athletes know it, and, writers, and the scientists who coined the phrase. We’ve all had those moments, I suspect, when we are so deeply engaged in something, when all our energy, when body, mind, and spirit are so devoted that we lose track of all time. We become one with the thing. Scott AndersonActs 17:22-31 † Psalm 66 † 1 Peter 3:13-22 † John 14:15-21
If you get the environment right, every single one of us has the capacity to do remarkable things. Not only that, if you get the environment right, good deeds breed good deeds. When the conditions are right, safety, self-sacrifice, mutual love all increase exponentially. Generosity evokes further generosity. We’ve certainly seen that of late with your remarkable generosity toward this community and the church’s work within it. It builds on itself. Advocacy breeds further advocacy. An advocate shapes an environment of mutual support. Advocacy gets the environment right. In John’s story Jesus speaks of the Spirit as an advocate. “If you love me, you will keep my commandments. And I will ask God to give you another Advocate to be with you forever.” Our Christian tradition understands this in a Trinitarian sense—that the Spirit of God in Christ is now with us forever as an advocate—a force of love absolutely and undeniably for us and for our corporate well-being. A force that abides in the very heart of God. Scott AndersonActs 2:14a, 36-41 † Psalm 116:1-4, 12-19 † 1 Peter 1:17-23 † Luke 24:13-35 For over 1400 days—nearly four years—between 1992 and 1996, the city of Sarajevo was under siege. One study of the survivors found that many had developed a super-heightened sense of spatial awareness—a skill for evading bullets or bombs, a skill that they carried with them throughout their lives. “People, during times of prolonged, radical change, end up changing,” said the study’s author[i] in an article this week that takes an early run at how we might be changed on the other side of this pandemic. It makes sense. We are an adaptable species. We grow and change according to requirements on the ground, in the environment, or just at home in these times. Not surprisingly, studies from previous outbreaks—SARS, Ebola and swine flu—showed almost universal spikes in anxiety, depression and anger. But they also found that people acted to regain a sense of autonomy and control. People worked on their diet. They read more news. They made art. Who knows, maybe they made masks. You may remember those Sarajevo roses we showed you some months ago in the “before times.” Scott AndersonActs 2:14a, 22-32 † Psalm 16 † 1 Peter 1:3-9 † John 20:19-31
A video version is available here. One of my favorite TV shows was Modern Family. A few weeks ago it wrapped its final episode after eleven seasons. At its best, the show combined great slapstick and physical comedy with some beautiful and, sometimes, even inspiring sentiment. One memorable episode way back in season five was titled “Australia.” Phil Dunphy went to Australia for a vacation because he had been conceived there, and his mother had always wanted him to go and visit. He’s finally decided to go fulfill her dying wish, and the rest of the family decides to tag along. The problem is that things don’t go very well for Phil. As soon as they arrive, he has an allergic reaction to a local fruit. Then he gets stung by a jelly fish. Then, in one of the best physical bits I’ve seen in a long time, he gets punched in the eye by a kangaroo that he thinks is the spirit of his mother. That’s worth the half-hour all by itself. Scott AndersonJeremiah 31:16 † Psalm 118:1-2, 14-24 † Acts 1:34-43 † Matthew 28:1-10
Two phrases catch my attention in these days of pandemic and social isolating. Two phrases seem especially relevant as we find ourselves a month into a disruptive reality most of us have never experienced before. The first is this: “Do not be afraid.” It is the message given by the angel—an other-worldly being who apparently looks like lightning in a jacket of snow and shows up just as a massive earthquake hits. Just to the side you have a couple of military guards laying there, by all appearances dead. I mean, the advice sounds a little unnecessary, doesn’t it? What could they possible be afraid of? Scott AndersonGenesis 1:1-2:4a † Response Psalm 136:1-9, 23-26 † Exodus 14:10-31; 15:20-21 † Response Exodus 15:1b-13, 17-18 † Isaiah 55:1-11 † Response Isaiah 12:2-6 † Ezekiel 36:24-28 † Response Psalm 42:1-11 and 43:1-5 † John 20:1-18
Do you remember now? Do you see that this age, this time, these struggles are no match for the Holy who moves and lives and breathes and thunders both within us and far beyond our human reach? We kept it short tonight—I know, that may surprise you! There are so many more stories that speak of possibility when only threat is visible, of light when it is still dark, of hope when all around us injustice and struggle are so apparent. The thing is we have been this way before. Many times! And by we, I mean this ragtag, imperfect, stiff-necked and selfish human history of which we are part and parcel. They is us. And we are them. |
St. Andrew SermonsCategories
All
|