Sunday's sermon

Sunday's Gospel was about 'doubting Thomas'. I love, love, love Thomas. I thought I'd share my sermon, as best I remember what I said with you.

This is a tribute to Thomas and to 'doubt'....

Easter II- John 20.19-31

What I want to do today is deconstruct what we think about Thomas.

But this is such a rich lesson, there are a few things I want to mention first.

The 10 (minus Judas and Thomas) are in a locked room and Jesus is suddenly with them.

This tells us something fascinating about the Resurrected Body--it can pass through walls! Pretty cool, huh?

English is a wondrous language, but it sometimes is not a good language for translation. What the gospel tells us is that Jesus says to his disciples, "Peace be with you."

What he actually said was probably in Hebrew, "Shalom".

"Peace" in English, usually means the absence of conflict. "No conflict", we are at peace. "Conflict", no peace.

Shalom is much more inclusive and broader than that. Shalom is the totality of things in balance and together.

Shalom includes conflict and peace and brings them into accord. Shalom is completeness, all things included, nothing left out--and everything in balance. Whole.

Then Jesus breaths on the disciples. What an intimate thing--to feel someone's breath on your face. There is nothing so vital as feeling another's breath--a lover, a child, a grandchild.

And breathing is the essence of being. Stop breathing and you die. Breath is essence.

So Jesus gives them his essence and tells them the Spirit is theirs.

Now to Thomas.

In the other Gospels, we learn Thomas' name but he has no voice.

In John, Thomas gets all the good lines.

In Chapter 11, when Jesus decides to go to Judea and raise Lazarus, all the disciples know he will be in danger from the Jewish Authorities there.

Thomas says, "Let us also go, that we may die with him." Thomas is ready to go 'all the way', with Jesus. Thomas is without fear.

And later, in what we call 'the farewell discourse', Jesus tells the disciples he is going to prepare a place for them and they know "the way" he is going.

It's Thomas who gives voice to all their thoughts when he says: "Lord, we do not know where you are going. How can we know the way?"

Thomas isn't afraid to ask the hard questions. He is a seeker after truth.

Then, in today's lesson, Thomas comes back and will not accept the word of the others that they had 'seen the Lord'.

You know what Thomas is called--'doubting Thomas'. He gets a bad rap. He's just from Missouri--he wants to be 'shown' for himself.

This is just me talking--but I think 'belief' and 'doubt' are on the same spectrum. No 'doubt'...no 'belief'.

What most people mean when they ask if you 'believe' is 'do you KNOW for sure'. If you 'know for sure', you don't need to 'believe'.

"Belief" is about what we can't 'know for sure'. Belief is about mystery and what is unseen and unknowable.

And besides, the others were hiding behind locked doors. Where was Thomas? He was out and about. He wasn't afraid. He was taking the lay of the land and hearing what people were saying.

Now, here's the crux of the matter: John's gospel is not like the other three and has a totally different purpose.

Matthew, Mark and Luke are about Jesus' teachings and Jesus' 'doings'. John is about Jesus' IDENTITY. About his 'being'.

Remember how John begins? We all know it: "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was with God and the Word WAS GOD."

John's Gospel is about Jesus 'being' God. All Jesus teaches in John point to 'who he is'. And the 'signs' he does point to 'who he is'.

It's all about IDENTITY.

And when Jesus shows up again a week later and Thomas is there (and I don't even want to imagine what it was like for that week: the ten full of Joy and Thomas not convinced!) it is Thomas who completes the circle of John's gospel.

When he sees Jesus, Thomas says, "My Lord and my GOD!"

Thomas is the only one in the whole Gospel who truly understands Jesus' IDENTITY.

God bless him.

And God bless each of us in our 'doubts' and our 'questions'.

Just me talking again: I think the questions are more important than the answers any day.

The questions lead us deeper into the reality and the 'truth' of belief. Not 'knowledge' but 'truth'--that's where our questions lead us.

We should all be proud to be doubters like our brother Thomas.

Amen.

Jim Bradley
padrejgb@aol.com

Stop the madness!

A republican Congressman from Alaska said that either Bernie or Hillary would practise "mind control" and tell Americans when to eat and what to eat.

A pastor from Texas accused Disney of declaring "war on Christianity" because the company objected to a vetoed bill in Georgia that was discriminatory against LGBT folks. He even wondered if you could still wear a cross 'outside your shirt' to a Disney theme park.

Donald Trump told Chris Matthews he wouldn't 'take off the table' using nuclear weapons in Europe and that women who got illegal abortions (which aren't illegal, by the way, Duh!) should be 'punished'.

Laws that restrict voting rights, access to safe abortions and rights for LGBT folks are popping up all over the country.

I mentioned all this to Bern. She just looked at me and said, "frightened white men".

Which may be true.

I abhor abortion but support a woman's right to choose to have one. I believe trans-gendered people should use which ever bathroom is most comfortable to them. I think voting rights should be expanded, not taken away. I think we should disassemble all nuclear weapons--all of us. I sometimes find Disney a bit corny but never 'anti-Christian'.

So, given Bern's explanation for all that stuff, I am either 'unafraid', non-white or a woman.

I'll go for the first explanation.....

Happy Birthday, Daddy.

Tomorrow, April Fool's Day, would have been my father's 108th birthday, Bless him.

He was born in Waiteville, West Virginia, a place that had only dirt roads when I was a teenager, to a farm family. He was the youngest of 4 brothers and a sister. The sister died before I was born but the three brothers--Del, Russel and Sid--were major parts of my youth and upbringing. Del and Russel were merchants--Russel owned  grocery store and dry goods store in Anawalt and Del (Adelbert, if you were wondering) owned the Esso station across the street from the H&S grocery and 'department store' that Russel owned.

Sid lived in Princeton, a town of 20,000 24 miles away where my parents moved when I went to college.

Sid was an insurance salesman.

Roxie, their sister was the oldest and died when her two children--Billie LaFon and The Rev. Pat LaFon where teens. Pat even lived with my parents and me when I was a baby. When he left, I moved into what my parents always called "Pat's room".

God, I could get into culdesacs of memory we'd never get out of here!

Virgil Hoyt Bradley grew up on a farm where the cash crop was turkeys. So he didn't eat turkey until he went to McDowell County to be a coal miner. He didn't believe it could be turkey until he saw the carcass since they had been told as children that turkey was tough and tasteless and only city folks liked it.

From the coal mines he went to war--old enough to not go, but he went anyway, marrying my mother before that, and spend four years in Europe.

He was in the Engineering Corps and landed on Omaha Beach on the second wave. The rest of the war he helped build bridges for Gen. Patton to drive tanks across and then helped blow those bridges up, since they weren't going to retreat.

Back in WV after the war, he owned a bar/restaurant until he had to pull a gun on a drunk friend.

By then, I was a kid--the only one they had, the result of 14 years of marriage. Surprise!!!

Then he worked for Uncle Russel, then he drove a dry cleaning truck around the county and then he became--like Sid--an insurance agent (passing tests as an 8th grade drop-out that college kids couldn't pass).

My mother died when I was 25. My father over a decade later, after senility embraced him and I moved him to CT.

He was a self-made man.

He was never sure why I was an English major in college. "What will  you be when you graduate?" he asked me.

"A gentleman," I replied. (What a jerk I was.)

And this Episcopal priest stuff was totally out of his wheelhouse. He'd never met an Episcopalian (besides my cousin Mejol, who preceded me into Anglicanism) until I became one.

And he was dear and sentimental and loving and sweet.

Really.

And Tegan 'Hoyt' Bradley, our 6 year old granddaughter carries his name. Bless her.

Happy Birthday, Daddy, wherever you are.

I love you now the way I should have loved you while you were alive.

I'm sorry it took so long for me to love you the way I should have loved you always.

Fathers and Sons. Who can figure that out?

Happy Birthday, Daddy.

I love you so much.

What a scam!

Yesterday I got 4 robocalls in 20 minutes--all the same: it went like this....

We've been trying to get in touch with you, a somber female voice said, This is the Internal Revenue Service and we are calling to let you know the IRS is filing a law suit against you. You must call the following number (she gives a number with a 305 area code) to hear about this law suit. Then she repeats the number and tells me 'to call immediately'.

Well, I didn't believe it for a moment--since the IRS obviously knows how to get in touch with me! And 4 calls in a quarter of an hour or so just seemed bogus.

I had to call Jane, who prepares our taxes, about a question she had so I told her about the calls.

It seems they start around this time of year and many people call the number and are offered 'a settlement' for their law suit.

What a scam!

And people who aren't as cynical as me might fall for it.

Jane told me the IRS will never call--they use the postal service. Government agencies working together....

Light switches

Of all the things I'm terrible at--linear time, for example--I may be worst at light switches.

St. John's, Waterbury, where I was for 21 years (if I'd been born there I would have been old enough to vote, drink and smoke when I left!) I never quite got the details of light switches, especially in the church, down.

One day, before a Wednesday Eucharist, I was trying to figure out which of the 20 or more switches turned on the lights in the chapel. Mary, who was blind, was already there for the service.

I tried a dozen switches or so and then called out to her from the back of the church, "Mary, is that enough light in the chapel?"

"I couldn't tell you, Father," she said, not missing a beat, "but thanks for asking...."

We've lived in this house since 1989--27 years come September--and we have lots less switches than St. John's does.

But tonight, shutting off lights to go upstairs to bed, I went from the kitchen to the living room and reached to my right to turn off the light--and the switch is, as it has always been, on the left.

Two switches are by the door to the back porch. I meant to turn off the back porch light and plunged myself into darkness on the first try.

Then, at the back steps there are two switches. One turns on the overhead light in the kitchen (like the one by the porch door does) and one controls the overhead light near the fireplace. I meant to turn off the light in the kitchen and instead turned on the light near the fireplace.

Zero for three, all in one night.

Light switches and Linear Time--what is the connection?

I don't know, but I'll ponder it.

Now I'm going to turn off the light in my office (only one switch, a cinch) and walk down the hallway to our bedroom and turn off the light in the upstairs hall (only one switch available again) so I'll get those right.

But when there is a choice of two, I'll always push the wrong one.

Just the way I am.

Someone looking for the Light and unable to control it.

Ponder that.

A lot like life, I'd say....

Go figure....

Since I can see what people are looking at on my blog, I sometimes notice something odd--like a really old post getting attention.

 The following post is from September 2011 and people have been looking at it today. Go figure.

 

fall fell

Was it just me but did we lose 35 degrees or so overnight between Wednesday and Thursday?

I'm writing this with a tee shirt, a long sleeve shirt and a West Virginia University sweatshirt on. It is chilly. Relatively from a few days ago.

I grew up in Anawalt, West Virginia in the southern most county of the state--the free state of McDowell. One of the things I've come to realize having lived in New England and Alexandria, Virginia is that southern West Virginia has arguably the best weather in the US.

Anawalt is further south than Richmond and Lexington. And the elevation is about 2700 feet above sea level. The highest spot in WV is Spruce Knob which is 4200 feet a.s.l.

Because Anawalt was so far south and so high up, surrounded by mountains about 1000 feet higher, the climate was remarkable. We had four months of Spring and four months of Autumn with about 2 months of Winter and Summer. Spring and Autumn were cool at night and warm in the daytime. Summer was sunny but not that hot. A town 30 miles away called Bluefield (nicknamed "Nature's Air-Conditioned City") gave away lemonade any time the temperature got to 90. In the 18 years of my early life, I don't remember more than a few days that free lemonade flowed.

It rained a lot and snowed a lot. But the snow seldom stayed around for more than a few days. Even in winter, the temperature would creep up into the 50's a lot, so the snow would melt.

I actually think McDowell County could be a really ideal retirement place--amazing weather, mountains, friendly people. But then there is this: of all the counties in the contiguous 48 states, McDowell County has the earliest death rate AND the oldest average age.

Ponder that for a moment. People die sooner there than anywhere in the US and yet the average age is the highest. Huh...no young people at all. When I grew up there 50 years or so ago, the county had 12 high schools--6 white and 6 black (McDowell County has about a 50/50 racial divide, the highest outside the deep South, though in the whole state there are only about 5 % black population....go figure that!) Now, to my knowledge, there are only 3 high schools.

The population of McDowell County, when I was growing up there, was about 60,000. Now, bear in mind that the county is about the size of Rd. Island, so we're talking a really rural place. Now, if I'm not mistaken, the population is around 30,000 or less. Go figure. Well, deep coal mining lost out to cutting the tops off of mountains. All the young people left.

Don't tell me there isn't something called Irony: the place in the country with the greatest weather ever is poverty stricken, practically deserted, full of old people who die early and so isolated that even if you wanted to retire there there is almost no easy way to get there.

Ponder that.

What a shame....

One more Easter over....

They were all here--both our children, their spouses, our three living granddaughters and our slumbering one in Mimi's belly--John and Suzanne, his niece, Jack and Sherry and their son, Robbie, and Jay (one of Josh's oldest friends) later.

Easter full of life, as it should be.

Our dog snapped at Robbie, as he has twice before (who knows what's that about? the dog gods?) so Bela was on a leash all day and upstairs in our bedroom with either me or Bern while Jay was here.

Resurrection is sometimes a complicated times--especially when you have a dog who is the worst ever but who you love like a Rock.

Food coming out our ears. I do the 'befores' except Bern breads and fries asparagus--usually canned but this year fresh and much better than what was already very good. I did pate and cheese and crackers and olives and shrimp and deviled eggs.

Then there was two hams--fresh and 'country'--vadellia onion  pie, green salad and dandelion risotta (from Sherry and Jack--green salad is lime jello with walnuts and cottage cheese in case you don't know) salad 'salad'. Coconut Cake and Robbie's Chocolate Silk pie for desert. Amazing

And good friends and beloved people and food and laughter and joy (after Bela was on leash!)

Good Friday was John's birthday. I found all these great cards and we gave him the National Geographic "Story of Jesus".

John is one of only a few folks I remember from college.

Suzanne, John's niece, went to Bennington College, where both Tim and Mimi went, more than a decade before.

I'm just rambling now, I know.

John took Tim to the train late Easter afternoon. Josh and Cathy and the girls left in the early morning on Monday for Baltimore. Mimi drove back to Brooklyn just after noon today and will pick Tim up from work in the Empire State Building and they'll go home. (How cool to have a son-in-law who works in the Empire State Building!)

And now, sated with left overs, about to go to bed, I'm writing this.

He is Risen! He IS indeed!

And I feel that way too after so much time with the people I love most in the world and Holy Week with the folks at St. James in Higganum.

Alleluia! I say.

Another Easter has come and Gone.

Alleluia! in lots of ways.