Before You're Ready

Photo by Smithsonian.com

💛

“To grow a church preach from the heart,
work for the poor, welcome the stranger, embrace the Spirit.
Laugh more than cry. Fail more than wait. Give more than keep.
Be unexpected love and trust the becoming to God.”
― ~~Steven Charleston, Cloud Walking:: A Spiritual Diary

Have you ever seen this segment on The Tonight Show Starring Jimmy Fallon? (Music Up)

Thank you, adorable bird family, for the special gifts you left us just outside our front door. 

That’s right, a bird family has taken up residence under the roof of our front porch. This happens every year. 

It can be a little inconvenient to host these families. In an effort to deter them, we’ve tried the spikes. But these resourceful birds are somehow able to construct their nests between them! Some of these nests are engineering marvels, really. This year’s is gorgeous. It’s very tidy with kind of a contemporary feel – mid-century modern maybe.

Inevitably, though, fragments of the nest make their way to the porch floor. (Sigh.) I just sweep them up. There’s also the issue of bird poop.

Despite the mess, we have come to enjoy hosting these guests. Especially now that we have a Ring camera on the porch. We get to watch the parents come and go as they care for their newborns, and as the babies eventually grow and leave the nest. We get to watch them as they spread their wings and take flight for the very first time. It’s thrilling.

One year, a pair of mourning doves arrived. A lovely couple, their comforting coo serenaded us morning and evening, as they made themselves at home under the shelter of our porch. Mourning doves are generally in and out fairly quickly. They can build their nests in just a few hours, lay their eggs, and before you know it, they’re gone. Mourning dove mamas usually lay two eggs per clutch.

One day, I noticed there was only one chick in the nest. Mom was there too. She seemed to be poking and prodding her offspring who may have been starting to show signs of failure to launch. Suddenly, I realized - brilliant - she was defeathering her nest. As mom painstakingly deconstructed the home she had built for her family, one tiny twig at a time, junior showed no signs of leaving. He was a squatter. Finally, there was nothing but a mess of nesting debris scattered about. Baby bird, perched perilously on the edge of a ledge, finally gathered his courage, spread his wings, and left us with a tenuous flutter. 

Sometimes we need a little push. It’s a scary world out there. I get it.

So often we find ourselves waiting for just the right moment. There is no perfect time to have a baby, leave an unhappy workplace, or quit an unhealthy habit.

In a way, Jesus pushes his followers out of their comfort zone, sending them, according to Matthew’s Gospel, to the “Lost Sheep of Israel,” perhaps before they feel entirely ready. First, he sends out the twelve, two by two, with specific instructions – take nothing with you. Talk to no one on the road. Offer your peace at each home. Heal the sick, cast out unclean spirits. If you are rejected, shake the dust off your feet, but let them know in no uncertain terms that the Kingdom of Heaven has come near to them. 

Jesus sends the disciples out like “sheep among wolves.” They must be wise as serpents, but harmless as doves. Luke’s is the only Gospel that includes the sending out of the 70, or 72, depending on which translation you read. Some argue that 70 represents the 70 nations that emerged in Genesis chapter 10. However, in the Greek version of the Hebrew Bible, the Septuagint, there were 72 nations. 

Surprise! The Bible has inconsistencies!

Luke, however, is consistent with Jesus’ rather unusual, very specific instructions: take no purse, no bag, no sandals. 

Does this give anyone else anxiety? Those 70 (or 72) disciples, many of whom were likely women, were thrust into a deeply vulnerable position. Jesus sends them out in a state of utter dependency. Sure, they’re sent to spread the good news; they are likely up for that, but Geez Louise, discipleship is hard!

(Music up) Thank you, Barbra Streisand, for 'people who need people, cause they’re the luckiest people…' 

But are they? Just ask the young man in the grocery store, short on enough cash to buy baby formula for his newborn. Ask the unhoused, LGBTQ, people of color, immigrants, senior citizens, someone with a chronic health problem, a victim of domestic violence …Vulnerability is no picnic. It’s not always easy to be on the receiving end of someone else’s hospitality. 

But, God knows, a vulnerable experience can teach us empathy. Literally, God knows.

Grassroots, one of the outreach programs supported by St. Mark’s, is acutely aware of the daily challenges faced by some of our more vulnerable neighbors. Howard County’s primary homeless shelter, Grassroots, provided beds for 547 people last year. In December, thanks to the generosity of several local congregations like ours, Grassroots added twenty more beds to its Cold Weather Shelter Program, increasing its capacity by 40 percent. 

St. Mark’s also supports the Grassroots Crisis Center by supplying meals for more than fifty people on the second Friday of every month. The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few. 

Do you feel called to this ministry? For more information about Grassroots, please contact our own Cynthia Scourtis. She can point you in the right direction.

Sometimes we need that little push or encouragement to start the next thing, even before we feel ready. Some of theHebrew prophets, including Moses, Isaiah, and Jeremiah, expressed deep feelings of inadequacy before accepting their call. 

Way back when, before I answered a call to vocational ministry (trust me, that phone rang for a long time), way back then, there was my first solo Lay Eucharistic Visitation. I remember it as if it were yesterday. Trained well by Deacon Diane Fadely, I felt mostly prepared. Still, I was anxious about that first visit. 

I must have looked scared because I recall our rector giving me some specific directions. “Give them communion, but don’t stay too long,” she told me. This dear soul was in the final stages of Alzheimer’s, and although her memory seemed to be gone, she was somehow able to say the Lord’s Prayer. Afterwards, I felt satisfied with the visit. And I reported back as much when I returned the communion kit to the church. Our priest was not impressed. There were plenty more people who needed a visit.  

Anyone who answers a call to Lay Eucharistic Ministry will find that it feels great doing this work. But that’s not the point. It’s about the peace of God moving from soul to soul. It is in this flow that Episcopal Priest and contemplative Cynthia Bourgeault calls the imaginal realm, that the Kingdom of Heaven comes near. Jesus understands this and wants his disciples to experience it too. 

An early Church Father, Bishop Irenaeus, wrote that Jesus became like us so that we might become like Him. Remember the Wedding at Cana? You may recall that Jesus was unsure about the timing of his first miracle. It was his mama who gave him the push he needed, and suddenly, good wine-the very best wine-was flowing freely. 

That wine is the joy of God, the peace of God, the merciful love of God, and the mystery of the Holy Spirit flowing through us and among us when we are brave enough to live fully into our discipleship. Friends, we are called to bring Shalom, Peace, the love of Christ to others in many different ways, large and small. And sometimes this might require that we start before we are ready. 

If you need a little push, we’ve got you. One of the many benefits of belonging to a loving community of faith like this one is we will push you out of your comfort zone. And you will never go it alone. No thank you note necessary.

Amen.

Here's a link to the video

July Yoga

This is Not My Sermon

💛 
God grant me the serenity 
to accept the things I cannot change, 
the courage to change what I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.

This week, as I prayed and pondered about the most important message for this congregation at this time, everything I came up with seemed to fall short. What is in these readings that could possibly inspire an already amazing congregation? This is not exactly me avoiding my exegesis. It’s a simple statement of fact. However, I admit, I might have a problem.

If I’m gonna make this Curacy thing work, I need to simplify my sermon prep process. Yes, I took homiletics (preaching) classes in seminary. Yes, I know the proper steps to take to write a decent sermon with a concise and clear message. Simply stated, problem is, I have Sermon Prep FOMO. Trust me, it’s a thing.

I cast such a wide net when I am working on a sermon; I drag in so many different possibilities, that often I simply cannot decide where to begin. Here are a few of my habitual practices. Sometimes, I create a Spotify playlist with songs that reflect some of the themes of the weekly scripture readings. I look for signs. I will ponder the meaning of the lightning bug that landed on a commentary, researching the spiritual meaning of fireflies. (No surprise, they bring light to dark places, signify change, creativity, and spiritual growth. The way their light shines through them, making them both luminescent and transparent, could indicate heart connections.)  

A diamondback turtle scuttled through the grass as I was working on my sermon, and I took a video as she disappeared into the nearby marsh. Naturally, I needed to investigate. Diamondback turtles are currently a vulnerable species in certain areas due in part to overbuilding, which has jeopardized their natural habitats.  

Should I burrow deep into the weeds like my turtle friend or fly higher up like the lightning bug in order to enlighten the folks? There are just way too many choices. Here are some potential options:

We could begin by discussing the discrepancy between some biblical translations of the 70 or 72 that Jesus sent out on a training mission. What is the meaning of the 70? The 72? There’s a lot of speculation, for example, there are seventy nations that sprang from Noah’s family in Genesis 10. Moses took 70 elders up the mountain to meet God in Exodus. The Israelites spent 70 years in captivity in Babylon. There were seventy elders who made up the Sanhedrin, the great tribunal that pressed for Jesus’ arrest. We might even look to Psalm 70, a prayer for deliverance from enemies, which could fit our passage. 

We could do the same thing with the number 72, citing the 72 nations listed in Genesis in the Greek version of the Hebrew Bible, the Septuagint. We could sleuth until the cows come home. And maybe we should, but I’m not sure we need to, really. One thing I’m certain about is that when it comes to the Bible, we’re better off letting go of certainty.

We could examine Jesus’ rather unusual, very specific instructions: take no purse, no bag, no sandals. Stay in one place, eating and drinking whatever is provided. Does this give anyone else a little anxiety? Those disciples are sent out in a vulnerable position, like lambs among wolves to be specific. 

We could discuss the power of vulnerability and its importance to our relationships. We might delve into Brene Brown’s work on how fear of vulnerability can lead to shame, while vulnerability can open us to joy, creativity, belonging, and love.   

We might discuss the work of Baltimore-born civil rights activist, lawyer, and Episcopal priest Pauli Murray, whose feast day is this week. Murray was the first African American female to be ordained a priest. Murray refused to give up a seat on public transportation well before Rosa Parks and went on to impact civil rights and gender equality legislation. Pauli Murray knew how to shake the dust off her feet. Although highly qualified, Murray was rejected by Harvard because of gender. Pauli Murray is a name we should all be familiar with. 

We could explore peace and what it might mean to bring our peace to a household. We may recall the beloved Vietnamese monk Thich Nhat Hanh, who taught his students that to offer peace, we must first be peace. Who said, “If in our daily life we can smile, if we can be peaceful and happy, not only we, but everyone will profit from it. This is the most basic kind of peace work.” I love that!

With all that's going on in the world, perhaps the message is simple. Maybe inner peace is the best place to start. How can the Church inspire peace in the minds, bodies, and spirits of the souls she serves?

Finally (maybe), I guess we could discuss “Ecclesiology,” the study of the Church and what it means to be a follower of Jesus today in this post-postmodern, post-colonialist, pluralistic world. Dear God, help me decide. 

See what I mean? Please pray for me. 

Stay tuned for Sunday.

Love,

Curate Connie+

No Animals Were Harmed in the Writing of This Sermon

 

As I ascended the stairs of the unremarkable office building, the hollow echo of footsteps on metal intensified my nervousness. Having never attended an AA meeting before, I opened the door and was relieved to find people who were open, friendly, and welcoming. I took a breath and a seat.

I was honored that my uncle, now of blessed memory, had invited me to attend his thirty-year celebration of sobriety. There, among his immediate family and fifty or so grateful people who had been touched by his kindness and support, I was momentarily taken aback. As story after emotional story was shared about how much this man had helped them through their recovery, I developed a whole new appreciation for my uncle. I had grown up knowing about his "problem," about how his family had been hurt by his drinking. And then he got sober. 

We know that when one person changes, it affects the entire family system. Even positive changes, such as sobriety, can really rock the boat.

Not being directly affected by his disease, my uncle and I grew close, sharing a common interest in spirituality. 

Let's be real; none of us is a stranger to addiction or family dysfunction. The Bible is chock-full of it!

After the "No Kings" protests last week, it was enjoyable to revisit the book of Samuel in our Bible study on Wednesday. As you may recall, before Kings like Saul and David, there were Judges. The prophet Samuel appoints his children to be judges, but that doesn't go well. As these things tend to happen, Sam's kids misuse their power. 

The ancient Israelites decide that what they really need is a king. As we all know, one of the problems with kings and large institutions in general is the abuse of power. Despite God's advice to the contrary, Samuel anoints the very tall, good-looking, somewhat reluctant King Saul.

King after king after king, and one violent conflict after another, not to mention rampant marginalization and disenfranchisement of the vulnerable, it's the same sad, repetitive story. It's the same sad, repetitive story. It's the same sad... You get the idea. 

Nothing changes if nothing changes…

Our stories can paralyze us, holding us captive if we don't bring them above the line into conscious awareness, as Joseph Campbell was known to say. If we're not careful, our stories can paralyze entire cultures. 

As he'd done so many times during those horrible years at the height of the AIDS crisis, the hospice chaplain sat with yet another young gay man, a practicing Buddhist named Matthew, who, like many others, had been ostracized and demonized and abandoned to die alone and afraid. Frustrated that nothing he said or did seemed to comfort Matthew in his final painful, feverish hours of life, the exhausted chaplain prayed for guidance. Around 2:00 a.m., a woman bustles into the hospital room, mop and bucket in hand. As she cleans, she notices the small plastic figurine of Jesus, surrounded by lambs and little children, that the desperate chaplain had placed on Matthew's windowsill as a gesture of last resort. In a thick accent, the woman exclaims, "Merciful Jesus! If His kindness is here, then everything is going to be alright!" At that moment, a peaceful smile spread across Matthew's face as he turned his gaze toward the woman and Jesus. 

Throughout the long arc of Biblical history, God works in and through the unlikeliest of people, reorienting us again and again toward justice, compassion, and the healing power of love, to the impossible kind of world only a tiny, helpless immigrant baby born to an unwed teenage mother could begin to help us imagine. 

As it was in the beginning…following Jesus is still the ultimate act of resistance. To follow Jesus is to claim, as Paul writes, that we are "all one" – male, female, Jew and Greek, slave and free. This aspirational vision of Christian community sets aside binaries, boundaries, borders, and boxes that pigeonhole us into seemingly inescapable and limiting categories. One commentator writes: "For Paul, this trans-binary practice of in-Christness is the litmus test of the new creation." 

All too often, though, we, the institutional church, forget who we are; the institutional church being something of a necessary evil that, paradoxically, holds the dream of God and, at the same time, rejects it, writes theologian Verna Dosier. [1] Frederick Buechner suggests that the AA  model, with its simple philosophy of truth-telling and support, is one to emulate. With no buildings, they meet wherever they can. AA is free and open to everyone, everywhere.[2]

The Synoptic Gospels, Matthew, Mark, and Luke, all tell the story of a demoniac, a man so broken, so disenfranchised that he lives naked among the dead. He's an outcast, utterly disposable, invisible, save for some unruly public outbursts.

It's not difficult to find parallels in today's world. 

Jesus and the disciples have crossed the Sea of Galilee to the opposite shore—the land of the Gerasenes, Gentile territory. It's been a bit of a rough boat ride, but Jesus has a way of calming stormy seas.

When he encounters the crazed man, it's the demons with whom Jesus has a chat. Jesus asks for a name, which in Greek translates more like, "Who are you? Who are you really?" No match for the Son of God, the demons beg for mercy. Jesus permits the "legions" (a Roman military reference, perhaps?) to enter into a nearby herd of pigs.

Sidenote: According to Pigpedia.com, the Ancient Romans thought pigs to be symbols of intelligence and prosperity. According to this (questionable but entertaining) source, they revered the animal so much that Roman soldiers would carry small pig figurines into battle for luck. 

Theologically, this story is rich: it encompasses ancient purity culture, Jewish dietary restrictions, the waters of creation, eschatology—the study of endings (sorry, pigs!) —and perhaps even a suggestion of baptism. We could unpack this passage for days. 

What I'm curious about is how the man was received by his community after his healing. What old stories did his community cling to? What Christian values are at stake here? Compassion, hospitality, humility, forgiveness? Respect for human dignity, integrity, and moral courage? These are values that many institutions eschew in favor of more worldly values, such as money and power.

This Gospel story should raise questions for any community of faith. Who are we really?  How are we called to be church in this moment?

What values are we committed to? What changes might come about through the practice of a fearless moral inventory? 

Does that sound familiar? It should. It's the fourth step of Alcoholics Anonymous. In the fifth, we admit our shortcomings to God, ourselves, and one another. We name our demons. (Remember, demons are goners in the presence of Christ.) And miracles happen in the presence of a healthy Community of Love. 

After that, according to the twelve steps, we're ready to have our demons exorcised, ready to work together toward a new and improved version of ourselves, rebuilt on a solid foundation of loving kindness. And as anyone in recovery knows, the work never ends. 

---

[1] Verna J. Dozier, The Dream of God: A Call to Return (New York, N.Y.: Church Pub., 2006), 91.

[2] Frederick Buechner, Beyond Words: Daily Readings in the ABC’s of Faith, 1st ed. (New York: HarperSanFrancisco, 2004), 14.

 

A Morning Blessing

 Thank you, dear Mary Oliver!

Tall Trucks and Cinderella Stories

I should have noticed the whooshing sound, but I didn't.

 Rob and I headed out early Wednesday morning for the Wilmington train station. We were thrilled about this spontaneous day trip to New York City for a long-awaited family reunion. However, when we arrived, things did not go as planned. There was not a parking spot to be found anywhere near the train station. We circled the block – there were lots of garages, all full. Our search perimeter grew larger as the minutes ticked by and our departure time loomed closer. Red neon signs glowed forebodingly: Lot full. Lot full. Lot full. I look over at Rob, who by now was sweating. “We’re gonna miss our train,” he said. Suddenly, it occurred to me, I forgot to pray. 

“Please, God, help us find a parking place,” I prayed.

Seconds later, no kidding, we turn a corner, and immediately spot a green open sign at the entrance to a lot we had driven by several times. 

Thanks be to God, we park. We make our train. 

This is no fairy tale. This is classic Holy Spirit. 

During the days and weeks after Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension, the disciples had their own frustrations. They were likely still processing Jesus’ death, resurrection, and ascension as they gathered in that room in Jerusalem for the Jewish harvest festival of Shavuot.

What happened that Pentecost morning was huge for the Church. The Holy Spirit descends, and followers of Jesus are suddenly equipped with energy, skill, and desire to spread the Gospel far and wide. Stands to reason that this kind of radical change might require time for integration. Perhaps this explains why the Holy Spirit initially took a back seat to the other persons of the Trinity. Some have said that the Holy Spirit spent centuries on the sidelines, riding the pine…sitting the bench… 

Some contemporary scholars have recently referred to the Holy Spirit as the “Cinderella” of the Trinity.[1]

Remember when the UMBC basketball team upset UVA in the first round of the NCAA Division I men’s tournament? The UVA Cavaliers were first seed, UMBC Retrievers-16^th, yet they managed to pull off a win that’s still remembered as a Cinderella victory. 

We love it when Cinderella gets to go to the ball. 

No need to be a fan of fairy tales or sports to appreciate this analogy. The Holy Spirit’s on fire! She’s got game! And yes, she is often referred to with a feminine pronoun. But we mustn’t get too far ahead of ourselves.  It’s easy to be blown away by the Spirit. 

^“The wind blows where it chooses,” John writes, “You hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes (John 3:8).”

The feminine Hebrew word for wind, Ruach, evokes the power of God, the movement of God in creation, the uncontrollability, and ineffable nature of God, a wind that moves waters in Exodus (14:21).Interchangeable for both wind and Spirit, is the Greek word pneuma.

The Spirit is also associated with breath. God breathes life into Adam, (Gen 2:7). In the famous story of the dry bones in the book of Ezekiel, heard back at the Easter Vigil, God’s breath restores life (Ezekiel 37:9-10). The post-resurrection Jesus breathes the Spirit into the disciples (John 20: 22-24).

The Spirit hovers over the waters of creation and speaks through the prophets of the Hebrew Bible.[2]She grows the church and inspires human hearts to love (Romans 5:5). She intercedes for us and directs our prayers (Romans 8:26). The Spirit is credited with salvation in this life and in the life to come.[3]She dwells with us.

And then there’s… parking spaces. 

But wait, there’s more. The Holy Spirit invites us into relationship with God, with Christ, and with one another. 4^th Century theologian and Bishop Basil of Caesarea puts it this way:

“Christ is our way up to God.” Even as Christ is our way to God, the Spirit is our way to Christ. A contemporary theologian adds, “The Holy Spirit is always the means to God, but never the end in itself, which is why it is impossible to specify what the Spirit is in itself.”[4]

Whoosh!

The Spirit leads persons to other persons; the other persons of the Trinity, and one another. How many of us have felt we were mysteriously led to meet someone important?

The Spirit unites us, assisting us with the commandment to love one another. 

The Spirit reveals God to us, often through different art forms. Art can be spiritually transformative.

One theologian writes:

Art “quicken(s) into lit presence the continuum between temporality and eternity, between matter and spirit, between man and the ‘other’.”[5]

Whoosh!

At a recent Quiet Day, our own Kathy Arth shared some of her poetry. The same Spirit that breathes inspiration into Kathy inspired Bach, Beethoven, and the Beatles, not to mention Barrett, Beakes, and others of you in this congregation.

In that tumultuous period of the early church, fifty days after Passover, a hundred twenty or so diverse Jews gather in a room for a festival. There’s an intense whooshing sound, like a strong, startling wind blowing through doors and windows. Tongues of fire rest atop each of them. They begin to speak, each in a different language, and yet, remarkably, they can understand one another. 

Womanist Cole Arthur Riley writes that on Pentecost, the Spirit’s descent makes language “a portal to the divine, a path to God, to one another, and to a shared imagination.” Riley cautions, “Pentecost reminds us that the Spirit of God rejects assimilation under the guise of unity.”[6]  

This wisdom (another aspect of the multi-faceted Holy Spirit) could be a guidepost for us as this community envisions our next steps.

I neglected to share one critical detail about our little parking debacle. We needed to find a parking garage that wouldn’t take the roof off my husband’s ridiculously tall truck. 

Like the shoe in the Cinderella story, we, too, must find the right fit for our time away during construction. Are we being called into relationship with another congregation? How might our ministries best continue to flourish? What might we learn from different scenarios? What wisdom might we have to share? As construction draws closer, may we discern wisely, together with the Holy Spirit. 

St. Mark’s, do you know you are a dream team? And our time is now! Can you feel it? This unique community of faith is being called to be church in innovative and exciting new ways. 

As we dream about various possibilities during our reconstruction, I pray that we will remain open to the movement of the Spirit while holding onto our vision of what is unique about us. In my discernment, before arriving here as Curate, the word I heard over and over to describe St. Mark’s was generous. 

The brilliant American theologian Walter Brueggemann, who passed away this week, could have written this for us at this pivotal moment. I am sure the Holy Spirit had a hand in it. They write:

“Sink your generosity deep into our lives
that your muchness may expose our false lack
that endlessly receiving we may endlessly give
so that the world may be made Easter new,
without greedy lack, but only wonder,
without coercive need but only love,
without destructive greed but only praise
without aggression and invasiveness….
all things Easter new…..
all around us, toward us and
by us

all things Easter new.
Finish your creation, in wonder, love, and praise. Amen."

---

[1] Alister E. McGrath, Christian Theology: An Introduction, 25th Anniversary Sixth Edition (Chichester, West Sussex: Blackwell, 2017), 280.

[2] McGrath, 281.

[3] McGrath, 281.

[4] Catherine Mowry La Cugna, God for Us: The Trinity and Christian Life, 1. HarperCollins paperback ed., [Nachdr.] (New York, NY: HarperSanFrancisco, 2006), 362.

[5] “A Constructive Christian Theology for the Pluralistic World. 1: Christ and Reconciliation” (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 2013), 185.

[6] Cole Arthur Riley, Black Liturgies: Prayers, Poems, and Meditations for Staying Human, First edition (New York: Convergent, 2024), 265.

June Yoga Practice

 June is bustin' out all over. It can be a lot. So, this practice is a reminder to stay present in the moment at hand, not jumping forward in thought, word, or deed until that now moment properly arrives. Even if you spend fifty minutes with this video breathing along with us and nothing more, you are practicing yoga. And good for you!

Holy Hummingbird!

 

A tiny hummingbird threatened to destroy me this morning. 

Our eyes met briefly before the marvelous creature rose like a drone and darted elsewhere. 

When Jesus says, the kingdom of heaven has come near, I believe him with every fiber of my being.

I’ve seen things—miraculous things, too precious for words. Momentary glimpses of the numinous in beautiful and terrible moments.

Mere thank yous feel entirely inadequate. Praise sounds so churchy. 

Relax into delight. “Something like scales” fall away. 

Medicine I never knew I needed.

What prepares us for love such as this?

Perhaps small doses are still all we can manage.

Dreaming of Ram Dass

Ram Dass was in a headstand

I was happy to see it. 

His last years were spent in a wheelchair, after all.

In the dream, I was in a hurry.

This seemed to bother him.

But he did not falter.

He stayed. Upside down.

Sirsasana, King of all asanas. 

Stimulating the lymphatic system,

Enhancing mental focus.

Building strength, concentration, balance!

In my haste, 

I might have missed his message.

Now.

Here.

Be. 

 

Whassup?

 What’s up? Whassup! Seriously, Whassup?

Remember the iconic Budweiser commercial? It was silly, but quickly became a cultural phenomenon after airing during Monday Night Football back in 1999. It was a humorous, endearing expression of the comfortable friendship among several men enjoying a football game. The spot was an unlikely hit as it wasn’t created by a large ad agency with a huge budget. Rather, it was a small, independent filmmaker, Charles Stone III, who developed the campaign based on his award-winning short film, True. Stone has since gone on to direct numerous notable film and television productions. 

For this commercial, Stone hired some of his friends, including Scott Martin Brooks, whom I first met years ago on a film shoot in Philadelphia. In the commercial, Scott plays a character named Dookie who sits in front of a now-ancient-looking desktop computer as he and his friends exchange the famous, oft-parodied, ridiculously hilarious greeting “Whassup!” On the set of our shoot, Scott shared that he never thought he would ever be an actor, let alone become famous for a Budweiser commercial. But he did.

God is always up to new things. All too often, we just cannot see or fathom what is happening while it’s happening. I imagine the disciples felt that way too—a lot.

Can we talk about Peter’s vision? It’s strange, right? A sheet coming down from heaven with all those animals on it. Peter sees it as a new vision for the church, one that is more inclusive, a lot less judgmental, and way more open to change.

And then there’s the reading from Revelation; yet another vision - a new heaven and new earth.

Finally, Jesus gives the disciples a new commandment. “Love one another as I have loved you.”

There seems to be a whole lot of new this week. Something we’re getting used to here at St. Mark’s.

Jesus begins his farewell discourse during the Last Supper in this 13^th chapter of John by commanding his disciples to love one another as brothers and sisters, using the Greek word for divine love, the highest form of love, agape. It’s a command, not a suggestion. Jesus knows things are going to get more difficult before they get better. Judas has just walked out because of this. Later, Peter, too, will cave to pressure. Discipleship is not easy. 

Jesus addresses his disciples as little children: 

“Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.”

How did Jesus love his disciples? Here are some of the ways I can think of. You may come up with more: 

With kindness, like when Jesus washes the disciples’ feet.

With patience, as he shows his wounds to a doubting Thomas.

With tenacity. He even comes back from the dead to love them!

With acceptance, meeting each of them exactly where they were.

With reminders like bread and wine. “Do this in remembrance of me.”

With boundaries. Jesus takes frequent time-outs.

With creativity, by sharing illuminating stories about God’s love. 

With radical unselfishness. He commends his mother to the care of John even as he is dying on the cross.

In truth, we might be wise to acknowledge that loving one another like Jesus can be remarkably hard, especially during troubling times.

But God is always doing a new thing, always encouraging us to find creative new ways to be in community, ways to find unity in diversity. 

We can do this because God is with us in this. 

“It’s all love,” my friend Scott explained to a reporter when asked about the reason for the seismic popularity of the Whassup commercial. 

It’s all love. 

Easy to say when things are going our way. When there’s lots of money in the bank, when the weather’s sunny, when the traffic’s light, it can certainly feel like it’s "all love." But throw in an unexpected setback or two, well, that’s when the rubber tends to meet the road. Even the strongest, most solid relationships can falter under the strain. 

Friends, may we remember that God is doing a new thing when we receive the bread of life and the wine of the new covenant. May we be reminded that we are commanded, not merely asked, to love one another. And may we be inspired to ever more expansive new expressions of that love in community. May our communion also remind us that it’s not entirely on us. God is in all our new things.

Whassup? Worshipping in a community of love where all are welcome is whassup. Small churches making a big impact is whassup. 

Agape is whassup. It's love that gets noticed, love that calls us to action. We might want to ask ourselves, what is love asking of us right now? 

Here's link to the video.