Friday, April 28, 2023

Sermon for Sunday

The “good” shepherd

 

          When I was a child, my Uncle Russell managed The Union Theatre in Anawalt, West Virginia—the little town where I grew up. So I got to see most every movie that came to town. The Union Theatre got mostly cowboy movies. Lots of cowboy movies, it seemed to me, were about the bad blood between cattle ranchers and sheep ranchers.

          In those movies, the cattle ranchers were always noble, upstanding, law-abiding citizens who lived in decent, well-kept ranch houses and did their best to “do the right thing.” Sheep ranchers, on the other hand, were usually disreputable, desperate, land-grabbing rogues whose only purpose seemed to be breaking the law and annoying the cattle ranchers.

            The cattle ranchers always had pressed shirts and little string ties and shiny, leather boots. The sheep ranchers were dirty and unshaven and were constantly casting lascivious looks at the cattle ranchers beautiful girlfriends.

          So, in Sunday School, I had some problems identifying with Jesus as the Good Shepherd. In the little colored pictures we got of Jesus, the Good Shepherd, he looked more like a cattle rancher than a sheep rancher. His flowing white and crimson robes were spotless and his hair and beard were neat and perfectly groomed. The truth was, if it hadn’t been for the beard, Jesus would have looked more like a cattle rancher’s beautiful girlfriend than anything else.

          I just didn’t get it….

                                                ***

          Shepherds are romanticized these days. That’s probably because most of us have never met a shepherd. We tend to think of shepherds as humble, gentle, dedicated, somewhat dreamy characters who rescue sheep and commune with nature. More often than not, we think of shepherds as being musical folks—playing little flutes to their sheep—wearing sandals and soft, hand made clothing.

          The truth is, shepherds in Jesus’ day were much more like sheep ranchers than cattle ranchers. According to Alan Culpepper, a well-respected New Testament scholar, “shepherding was a despised occupation at the time.”  Though we have a rather romantic view of shepherds, Culpepper goes on to say, “…in the first century, shepherds were scorned as shiftless, dishonest people who grazed their flocks on other people’s land.”  Another scholar, John Pilch, points out in his book The Cultural World of Jesus that shepherds were considered “unclean” by observant Jews of the day because of their violation of property rights and their neglect of their families by being away from home for long periods of time.

 

          On the other hand, most people I know don’t think very highly of sheep. Sheep are thought of as cowardly, dumb and stubborn all at once. Calling someone “sheepish” usually means they are too timid and fearful to stand up for themselves. “Wool gathering” is a waste of time. Comparing people to “sheep” implies they will mindlessly follow the leader and not think for themselves. And sheep are so uninteresting and boring counting them is almost guaranteed to put you to sleep.

          However, in first century Palestine, sheep symbolized something remarkably different than they symbolize for us. The highest virtue in the Mediterranean world of Jesus was honor. “Honor” was so valued that it was vital to maintain it even to the point of death. An honorable person in that culture would face death in silence, without complaint. John Pilch, again, writes that “while being shorn or even prepared for slaughter, the sheep remains silent and does not cry. This is how Isaiah describes the ideal servant of the Lord: ‘like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, the servant of Yahweh does not open his mouth.’’ “

          Sheep came to be the animals that most clearly symbolized “honor” in Jesus’ world. In fact, it was the silent, suffering servant of Isaiah—the figure so like a sheep—that came to be identified with Jesus in the early Church. Jesus is, after all, “the lamb of God.”

         

                                                ***

          The 4th Sunday of Easter every year is “Good Shepherd Sunday”. I’ve pretty much run out of things to say about shepherds and sheep. And since I don’t know any shepherds or sheep, I don’t get any new material year to year. The cowboy movie image is new this year—but that was scraping the bottom of the barrel, believe me. I should probably stop now, move on to the Nicene Creed and cut my losses….

 

          But there is something in today’s gospel to wrestle with before we do that. Listen: I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold. I must bring them also, and they will listen to my voice. So there will be one flock, one shepherd.

          I don’t talk much about “evangelism”. I don’t talk much about inviting those who “do not belong to this fold” to join our community. And since I don’t have anything new to say about sheep and shepherds, this is perhaps the time to talk about “evangelism.”

          A few years ago, there was a survey by the Gallop Poll people that revealed that Episcopalians tend to invite someone to church every nine years.

          That’s a remarkable statistic. I’ll give you a moment to consider that and see how you fit into the Gallop Poll.

 

          I’m a part of a group called The Mastery Foundation. I went to one of the Mastery Foundation’s workshops for people who minister in 1987. Since then I’ve been active with the Mastery Foundation. I now lead the workshop I attended 16 years ago and I’m one of the 12 members of the Mastery Foundation’s Board of Directors.

          For 16 years I’ve heard about what the Mastery Foundation calls “enrollment”. And until last week I didn’t “get” what enrollment means. I thought it meant “asking people to take four days and pay nearly $500 to do the workshop.” And I’ve been hesitant for the most part to do that. I hate to “ask people to do things.” I feel like I’m imposing, like they’ll think I’m some kind of fanatic, like I’ll be implying something’s missing from their life.

          But just last week, at a workshop I was helping to lead in Maryland, one of the other leaders said this: Enrollment is an invitation that enables  someone to discover the full possibility and vitality and commitment of their life.

          All that time—16 years—I’ve thought “enrollment” was about getting people to “enroll” in the workshop. Instead, I now realize, “enrollment” means “enrolling” people in the fullness of their own lives.

          What a difference that makes. And it only took me 16 years to understand it! That’s seven more years than it takes the average Episcopalian to invite someone to church!

         

          John Wesley—the Anglican priest whose followers formed the Methodist Church—used to ask people: HOW DOES IT GO WITH YOUR SOUL?

          Evangelism isn’t about getting people to come to St. John’s and become Episcopalians. Evangelism is about “enrolling” people in the health of their soul and the fullness of their lives. And we are not only “called” to do that—it is what God intends us to do.

          At the first meeting of each of the Discernment Groups we’ve been creating for over a year now, we ask people four questions as their homework. The fourth question is this: “how responsible are you willing to be for the experience and well being of the others?”

          That’s the question I want to leave you with—for your home-work and your SOUL-work this week. HOW RESPONSIBLE ARE YOU WILLING TO BE FOR THE FULLNESS OF THE LIVES OF OTHERS? Are you willing to ask someone this week—in whatever way make sense to you—“how goes it with your soul?”  Are you willing to be open and concerned and attentive to those who are not of this fold? Whether you invite anyone to church or not, are you willing to invite someone to a deeper relationship with you and with God? Are you willing to let someone know that God loves them in a way that can make their lives more abundant, more wondrous, more real?

          I’ll be asking myself all that this week. I’ll be wresting with that along with you. I speak to you of God’s love for us. But do I speak to others, outside this fold?

          And will I?

 

Justice Thomas

 Clarence Thomas should be impeached!

He and his wife (who supported the insurrection at the Capitol) accepted lavish vacations from Harland Crow, a billionaire who collects (wait for it!) Nazi memorabilia!

All judges (including the Supreme Court) have to provide a clear picture of their finances and gifts received.

Clarence blew that 'out of the water' with his trips of Crow's super expensive boat.

He is one of the reasons--he and the decisions he supported--why public respect for the Supreme Court is at an all time low.

He needs to go--retire or be impeached.

And he should take Sen. Diane Feinstein with him....

Thursday, April 27, 2023

I have no excuse

 I haven't written on my blog for almost a week.

I have no excuse.

Lots of stuff has happened that I could have written about.

Disney suing the Governor of Florida.

The law is several places going after the former President.

How well the Lakers are doing in the first round of the NBA playoffs.

The chill that has followed the warm days earlier.

The President of South Korea singing at the White House dinner for him.

My sermon for Sunday.

Biden running for re-election and Nicki Haley saying he'll die during his second term.

Don Lemon and Tucker Carlson getting fired.

The great Making A Difference workshop I helped lead.

The snow melt floods that might happen.

Her husband forgetting Melania's birthday.

But I haven't.

And I have no excuse.


Friday, April 21, 2023

Home again, home again, jiggidy-jig

I got home today from Holy Cross Monastery in West Park, New York at 2 p.m.

Holy Cross is an Episcopal Monastery--yes, beloved, Episcopalians have monks and nuns.

It was perhaps the 40th Making a Difference Workshop I've helped lead.

I think it might be my last.

I'm getting old and noticed I wasn't as sharp on some of the parts as I used to be. And my knees making walking up stairs hard.

I plan to email Ann, our executive director, to let her know this week.

But this group, I told them at the end, was if not the best, one of the three best groups I've helped to lead.

It was very diverse--three rabbis (two of them women), 5 black folks, a psychologist, a nurse and folks from several denominations from Roman Catholic to Baptist.

And they were great!

So many questions, so many comments, so much excitement.

A good group to have be my last.

But it is so good to be home.

I missed Bern and our dog, Brigit, so much.

I am home again...home again...praise the Lord.

 

Monday, April 17, 2023

I'll be away

I write this stuff on my office computer. I have no computer to carry with me.

I'm going tomorrow to Holy Cross Monastery in West Park, NY to help lead a Making a Difference workshop.

I've been doing this for 25 years or more.

The workshop, when I took it, gave me my priesthood back.

I was thinking about renouncing my vows and becoming laity, but on the last day we had to 'declare' ourselves as our possibility.

I stood up and said, "I am priest."

This might be my last workshop. My age and my time are precious and I'm not sure I should serve as a leader anymore.

Though I will miss the transformations that I witness in the participants. Almost all become transformed by the workshop.

So, I won't be posting until Friday night, when I get back.

Be well and stay well, beloved.

 

Sunday, April 16, 2023

My birthday

 Tomorrow is my 76th birthday.

I never dreamed I'd live this long. But I like that I have.

My father died at 83 and my mother at 63--she never met her grand kids and my father was in such morose sadness about her death that he didn't pay much attention to them.

I want oysters for dinner.

I'd prefer a dozen raw oysters, but I'll settle for cooked. With pasta, I hope.

We'll see.

Happy birthday to me!


Saturday, April 15, 2023

Weird stuff online

 I found out online what the most common birthdays are.

Weird, huh?

The first five most common birthdays are all in September.

Bern's is April 2--that's 217th.

Mine is April 17, next Monday--and it is 270th.

When I told Bern I had 'something weird to tell her' and then told her, she asked, 'so what's that for? Why is that good to know?"

And I answered, 'that's why I said it was weird. I have no idea what it's for or why it's good to know.'

I'll stick with that and keep looking for weird stuff online.


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About Me

some ponderings by an aging white man who is an Episcopal priest in Connecticut. Now retired but still working and still wondering what it all means...all of it.