Caught by Jesus

December 4th, 2021 

Matthew 22:15-22 

15 Then the Pharisees went and plotted to entrap him in what he said. 16 So they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are sincere, and teach the way of God in accordance with truth, and show deference to no one; for you do not regard people with partiality. 17 Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to the emperor, or not?” 18 But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why are you putting me to the test, you hypocrites? 19 Show me the coin used for the tax.” And they brought him a denarius. 20 Then he said to them, “Whose head is this, and whose title?” 21 They answered, “The emperor’s.” Then he said to them, “Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” 22 When they heard this, they were amazed; and they left him and went away.

Caught by Jesus

 It is a tale as old as time, or at least as old as the New Testament. Those tricky Pharisees are up to no good again, trying to catch Jesus in another one of their plots. This time, instead of taking a religious tack, they've decided to go political with Jesus, trying to get him entangled with the mechanics of the Roman Empire. "Is it lawful," they ask," to pay taxes to the Emperor, or not?" As faithful consumers of holy scripture, we know that this can only go one way, The Way of Jesus. We can almost see the Pharisees standing by, rubbing their hands in anticipation of Jesus falling into their snare. "Give therefore to the emperor the things that are the emperor's and to God the things that are God's." 

I often muse about how we think Jesus operates. Whose "morals" or "standards" he follows and whose ‘way’ he would endorse. These musings sometimes find me weighing out different positions on different issues, perhaps even taxation from time to time when my tax bill comes due. I find myself wondering if I should give to the IRS what is the IRS's.

Those who make exclusive claims on Jesus seem to forget that we are the ones that Jesus has made a claim over.  We are the ones that Jesus came to save at his first coming and will bring into his kingdom at his second coming at the end of the age. Projecting my ideologies and my agendas onto Jesus is futile. Primarily because His ways are not my ways, and His thoughts are not my thoughts, and thanks be to God for it. I'm not interested in a savior made in my image as much as I am interested in being shaped into the likeness of Christ.

 As much as we might want to catch Jesus in our traps, Jesus will easily destroy those bonds much more quickly than he conquered the bonds of sin, hell, and death. So, our task, instead, is to sit, watch, and wait for Jesus to show us who he is. Further, while we wait, we might reflect on who Jesus is asking us to become and how we might shape ourselves into his image. 

As we look around at the world around us, sometimes our hearts end up in our throats. We hear stories of supplies’ chain problems, new COVID variants, political upheavals, and climate change. It’s hard not to get anxious with the 24-hour news cycle recycling information non-stop for our enrichment. It would be abnormal not to feel uncomfortable in the climate that we live in. However, we continue to place our hope, trust, and loyalty in the one through whom all things were made. There have been times like these before, and I suspect that we will see times like these again sometime down the road, but perhaps not in our lifetime. Maybe Jesus will come again before that has to happen. In the meantime, what we are given and guaranteed is right now. When we are anxious, we give those anxieties to God. When we are conflicted, those things belong to God as well. When we have needs, we entrust those to God to take care of. You see, it isn’t just silver and gold that belong to God. It’s all the rough times, heartaches, pains, and uncertainties as well. 

So, give unto The Emperor, the president, the congress, and the Queen that which is theirs. Remember, all things are in the hands of our Savior, and it is through him that all things shall be made well.  

The Rev. Tyler C. Richards

Rector, St. Anne's Episcopal Church

Episcopal Diocese of Fond du Lac

Just As We Are

December 3rd, 2021

Matthew 22: 1-14

22 Once more Jesus spoke to them in parables, saying: 2 “The kingdom of heaven may be compared to a king who gave a wedding banquet for his son. 3 He sent his slaves to call those who had been invited to the wedding banquet, but they would not come. 4 Again he sent other slaves, saying, ‘Tell those who have been invited: Look, I have prepared my dinner, my oxen and my fat calves have been slaughtered, and everything is ready; come to the wedding banquet.’ 5 But they made light of it and went away, one to his farm, another to his business, 6 while the rest seized his slaves, mistreated them, and killed them. 7 The king was enraged. He sent his troops, destroyed those murderers, and burned their city. 8 Then he said to his slaves, ‘The wedding is ready, but those invited were not worthy. 9 Go therefore into the main streets, and invite everyone you find to the wedding banquet.’ 10 Those slaves went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both good and bad; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.

11 “But when the king came in to see the guests, he noticed a man there who was not wearing a wedding robe, 12 and he said to him, ‘Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding robe?’ And he was speechless. 13 Then the king said to the attendants, ‘Bind him hand and foot, and throw him into the outer darkness, where there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth.’ 14 For many are called, but few are chosen.”

Just As We Are

“And those servants went out into the streets and gathered all whom they found, both bad and good; so the wedding hall was filled with guests.” Matthew 22:10

The invitation to the marriage feast in our Gospel lesson today is a bit more complicated than the party invitations you received when you were a kid. Those were only sent to select friends, while the invitations in this parable go out indiscriminately: to the thoroughfares and into the streets, summoning everyone to the marriage feast, both good and bad alike. That means that the invitation by itself doesn’t mark the recipients as being particularly special -- at least not compared to others. It’s not really on account of anything about them that they get invited to the feast, because this is no longer an exclusive event reserved for those of a certain pedigree. Everyone is invited and all are welcome to show

up. 

So, the wedding hall was filled with guests.

The wedding hall is kind of like the Church. It’s full of guests already, and many more continue to arrive even still. They’ve come from every tribe, tongue, people, and nation -- and they’ve been arriving for a solid two-thousand years by now. Somehow, there always seems to be enough room for the new arrivals. But so far, the King hasn’t really seemed to be in much of a hurry. Come to think of it, has anybody actually seen him yet? When is this feast supposed to start, anyway? Our table has been here for years!

And then, perhaps for the first time, you might wonder if your attendance is worth it. Sure, you’re already here, so you might as well at least stay for the food. But the invitation starts to lose some of its initial significance. Especially when you recall that everyone else was invited just the same. And so, you find that your sense of responsibility to the host is being tested. Your temptation is either to leave the wedding hall altogether or, less conspicuous, to inflate the significance of your invitation and thus to presume that your attendance itself is the evidence of your own right to be there. But while you are preoccupied with such thoughts in your head, the King suddenly appears at the head of the wedding hall. You snap out of it and quickly compose yourself and discover that the other guests at your table (whom you’ve gotten to know quite well during the long wait) are suddenly arrayed in the finest tuxedos and the most fabulous gowns, while you’re still in the clothes you came in.

So much for not being conspicuous.

“Friend, how did you get in here without a wedding garment?,” a voice behind you asks, and turning around, you see none other than the King himself standing before you. And you are speechless. The Season of Advent begins in the wedding hall, so to speak, where all the guests are gathered as they wait for the marriage feast to start. And the catch is that we don’t exactly know when that will be.

Advent is the season of the extended wait time. But the peculiar thing about this feast is that the guests are apparently supposed to get ready after they’ve arrived at the wedding hall. They weren’t dressed up when they got the invitation and they certainly didn’t have time to pick up a bottle of wine for the host. They weren’t invited because they were already the kinds of people who would make good guests. If anything, they were invited because they didn’t have anything better to do. They arrived at the wedding hall just as they were.

Similarly, my guess is that we’re entering Advent this year just as we are -- which, given the year we’ve had, is probably not the most pious or prepared. But the good news of Advent is that anticipation is what joy looks like in advance of celebration. We are already among the guests in the wedding hall, but the point of the parable is that the wedding hall is at the same time the waiting room and the dressing room as well. And if the Church is like the wedding hall, then the Church is where we gather each and every week to put on our wedding garments together, so that when the King appears, we will all be clothed in righteousness and holiness together.

May our observance of this Advent increase in us the joy of anticipation during the wait time for the marriage feast, as we dress ourselves with Christ and the good works that God has prepared for us.

The Rev. Caleb Roberts

Rector, Grace Church, Ponca City

Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma

My Way, Your Way, The Way

December 2nd, 2021

Matthew 21:33-46

“Listen to another parable. There was a landowner who planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a wine press in it, and built a watchtower. Then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. When the harvest time had come, he sent his slaves to the tenants to collect his produce.

But the tenants seized his slaves and beat one, killed another, and stoned another. Again he sent other slaves, more than the first; and they treated them in the same way. Finally he sent his son to them, saying, ‘They will respect my son.’

But when the tenants saw the son, they said to themselves, ‘This is the heir; come, let us kill him and get his inheritance.’ So they seized him, threw him out of the vineyard, and killed him.

Now when the owner of the vineyard comes, what will he do to those tenants?”

They said to him, “He will put those wretches to a miserable death, and lease the vineyard to other tenants who will give him the produce at the harvest time.”

Jesus said to them, “Have you never read in the scriptures:

       ‘The stone that the builders rejected
        has become the cornerstone;
       this was the Lord’s doing,
        and it is amazing in our eyes’?

Therefore I tell you, the kingdom of God will be taken away from you and given to a people that produces the fruits of the kingdom. The one who falls on this stone will be broken to pieces; and it will crush anyone on whom it falls.”

When the chief priests and the Pharisees heard his parables, they realized that he was speaking about them. They wanted to arrest him, but they feared the crowds, because they regarded him as a prophet.

My Way, Your Way, The Way

I sometimes like to imagine myself playing a starring role in Gospel stories.  I’m the confident servant who invests five bags of gold for his master and doubles it.  I’m one of the sheep standing to Jesus’ right that gave him water when he was thirsty.  It’s not Peter, but me, answering Jesus’ question of who people say that he is with confidence! And then, there’s Matthew’s story of the tenants in the vineyard.  I’ve heard this story so many times that I can recite it verbatim.  With every reading I think, “Bad news for you, chief priests and elders.  Should have seen that one coming.” 

How could they have strayed so far from what God wanted them to be?  How did they go from building a Golden Calf to creating an entire system that became its own Golden Calf?  I mean, they had to be pretty blind, right?  But thanks be to God that I have insight today not to fall into that trap. 

Or do I?

Today, as I re-read this familiar story, I saw myself in the Gospel, not in the heroic role I like to envision, but rather the role I look at with derision.  Have I gone from being one of the prophets sent to the vineyard to being one of the tenants trying to keep them out? Yep.  God has a way of reaching out to us through Holy Scripture to snap us back into a reality check from time to time.

 Today, a battle was raging on Facebook.  For a change, it wasn’t about COVID, vaccines, or conspiracy theories, but rather what’s the proper color of candle for a church’s Advent wreath - purple or blue.   I was more than a little surprised at the lines being drawn in the sand.  And, of course, I had to weigh in with my own opinion because I’m drawn to social media conflict like a moth to a flame.  But later in the day, as I thought more about this text, I suddenly wasn’t so sure. Are purple candles why people aren’t filling the pews?  Is having blue candles what keeps people from being spiritually fed?  I don’t think that’s the reason. 

Maybe it’s because we’re not going outside the vineyard walls and inviting the people outside of them to come in.  Or because our work is so fixated on the appearance of the vineyard that we neglect the spiritual needs of the fruit dying on the vines.  As the tenants, we’ve tended the vineyard so long that we’ve grown a sense of entitlement to believe we’re the actual owners.

I’m not saying that we throw the baby out with the bathwater.  But when we come to a place of pointing fingers at one another and saying “your way is what’s ruining the Church” then we really need to take an assessment of ourselves.  St. Augustine once said “In the essentials unity, in non-essentials liberty, and in all things charity.”  (Ok, it wasn’t Augustine, but likely the German theologian Rupertus Meldenius.)  But the sentiment is correct.

Do we believe that, through the resurrection, Jesus overcame death and opened for us the way of eternal life?  Yes, that’s an essential of the Christian faith that should unify us.  Does it matter if our worship is augmented by a 20-person choir or a contemporary praise band?  No, that’s a non-essential that should be made depending on what nourishes that particular congregation.  The rest of us should be gracious and grant liberty. 

And what if a church wants to walk live camels down the center aisle of their nave on the Feast of the Epiphany?  Well, first, I hope their Altar Guild gets a proper heads-up about it.  There’s no one less charitable than an Altar Guild head who gets the surprise of their life by seeing livestock walking on the carpet.  Other than that, it might not be your thing, but if it works for their church?  Charity.

My Myers-Briggs indicator reports that I see things in black and white.  Over the years, especially as a dad, I’ve had to adjust my vision to see the many shades of gray in the world.  Our vineyards are no different.  One town needs their vines cultivated a different way than the vineyard one town over.  Not every vineyard tends their vines the same way, and that’s ok, as long as our focus is growing spiritually healthy fruit for the owner

As I read this Gospel, I remembered the times I buried my one bag of gold instead of investing it.  I remembered the times I was a goat on Jesus’ left who walked past the person who was thirsty.  I remembered the times when I was the headstrong apostle, so sure that I had the right answer but so incredibly wrong.  And I remembered more than a few occasions where I pridefully thought the vineyard I’m in did things the better way. 

To be honest, I was thankful for this little reality check that God helped me with today.  It’s a good reminder that I’m as fallible as the next person.  And that the place where I find true happiness isn’t always being right.  That’s the owner’s role.  The place where I find true happiness is just tending the vines. 

And, unlike the tenants in the Gospel, waiting joyfully for the day that I’m finally united with the owner.

The Rev. Dion Crider

Deacon, Episcopal Church of the Resurrection

Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma

Business of the Kingdom

December 1st, 2021

Matthew 21:23-32

23 When he entered the temple, the chief priests and the elders of the people came to him as he was teaching, and said, “By what authority are you doing these things, and who gave you this authority?” 24 Jesus said to them, “I will also ask you one question; if you tell me the answer, then I will also tell you by what authority I do these things. 25 Did the baptism of John come from heaven, or was it of human origin?” And they argued with one another, “If we say, ‘From heaven,’ he will say to us, ‘Why then did you not believe him?’ 26 But if we say, ‘Of human origin,’ we are afraid of the crowd; for all regard John as a prophet.” 27 So they answered Jesus, “We do not know.” And he said to them, “Neither will I tell you by what authority I am doing these things.

28 “What do you think? A man had two sons; he went to the first and said, ‘Son, go and work in the vineyard today.’ 29 He answered, ‘I will not’; but later he changed his mind and went. 30 The father went to the second and said the same; and he answered, ‘I go, sir’; but he did not go. 31 Which of the two did the will of his father?” They said, “The first.” Jesus said to them, “Truly I tell you, the tax collectors and the prostitutes are going into the kingdom of God ahead of you. 32 For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him.

 The Business of the Kingdom

"For John came to you in the way of righteousness and you did not believe him, but the tax collectors and the prostitutes believed him; and even after you saw it, you did not change your minds and believe him."                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      Matthew 21:32

Weird as it sounds, even as an ordained priest working in a parish church, I still wonder if I have a place in all of this Kingdom of God business. It's a complicated feeling, honestly. All the outward marks of being a successful Christian or pastor seem to be there, at least outwardly speaking. People come to church and seem to enjoy it. I like them—and I am glad they are there, too. I know, believe, and feel as if Jesus shows up to minister to all of us in the blessed sacrament. It all seems like it's working, right?

But over the past couple years of the pandemic, so many aspects of what makes me a successful Christian priest were pretty well sidelined by social distance. I noticed that my interior life had become less concerned with Christ and His Kingdom and more absorbed in frustration and even grievance. I felt as if I had drifted pretty far off track, and I admit that I wondered if I would ever know Christ's love and peace in the same way as before.

Thankfully, through the regular offering of prayer and, therefore, consistent exposure to the Scripture (a great benefit of live-streaming the offices for like a year or more), I was able to appreciate anew what Jesus promised in words like the ones above. In Matthew 21:23-27, Jesus' opponents mean to get him to admit that he believes that his authority is divine, that he is the Son of Man, the Messiah. But Jesus knows that his opponents are seeking to entrap him and unjustly accuse him before the time appointed. His opponents do not seek the truth about who he is so that they can be transformed by that truth, but rather so they can continue to hold authority and keep the status quo. Then, Jesus tells them a curious parable about two sons who were sent to work. One declines, but changes his mind while the other says he'll go but abandons his work. He quizzes his opponents to see which son was faithful to the will of the father who sent to them to work. His opponents responded, “the one who actually did the work.” Interestingly, Jesus interprets the parable right in front of his opponents saying that that the repentance of the tax collectors and prostitutes at the ministry of John the Baptist should have had a greater impact on the belief and behavior of the religious authorities.

The ones who do their work at the bottom of society, the ones who carry the weight of their sin and shame on their backs, they are the ones getting the message and giving their lives over to God. They are the ones who will come to know Jesus the best and will have their hearts transformed to be disciples and even taking the Gospel to Judea, Samaria, and the Ends of the Earth. Jesus is their Messiah, their comfort, redeemer, and hope.

Maybe I won’t know Christ as my Messiah in the same way as before. But he can be my Savior now. I'm hoping that this Advent will renew my zeal to serve Him, even if the past couple of years have shaped me in some not-so-great ways. But I want to be the son who changed his mind in the vineyard, doing the will of his father. I want to be numbered with the sinners who repented with John. I want to change my mind and believe so that my heart can be drawn into even greater union with Christ. May he be my peace; and may all earthly success be guided and governed by his humility and sacrifice. It took some time to come back around to it, but I know I have a place in all of this Kingdom of God business, after all…

And to that, I say: Thanks be to God.

The Rev. David Bumsted

Rector, St. John’s, Tulsa

Episcopal Diocese of Oklahom

Real Presence

November 30th, 2021

Matthew 21:12-22

12 Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. 13 He said to them, “It is written,

‘My house shall be called a house of prayer’;
    but you are making it a den of robbers.”

14 The blind and the lame came to him in the temple, and he cured them. 15 But when the chief priests and the scribes saw the amazing things that he did, and heard the children crying out in the temple, “Hosanna to the Son of David,” they became angry 16 and said to him, “Do you hear what these are saying?” Jesus said to them, “Yes; have you never read,

‘Out of the mouths of infants and nursing babies
    you have prepared praise for yourself’?”

17 He left them, went out of the city to Bethany, and spent the night there.

18 In the morning, when he returned to the city, he was hungry. 19 And seeing a fig tree by the side of the road, he went to it and found nothing at all on it but leaves. Then he said to it, “May no fruit ever come from you again!” And the fig tree withered at once. 20 When the disciples saw it, they were amazed, saying, “How did the fig tree wither at once?” 21 Jesus answered them, “Truly I tell you, if you have faith and do not doubt, not only will you do what has been done to the fig tree, but even if you say to this mountain, ‘Be lifted up and thrown into the sea,’ it will be done. 22 Whatever you ask for in prayer with faith, you will receive.”

Real Presence

After claiming the temple as a house of prayer, after repartee with the temple authorities, after healing the blind and lame, Jesus pronounces withering to the fig tree. He tells us that our faith can do the same, and indeed, can move mountains.

Episcopalians and many others are understandably and appropriately uneasy with the ‘name it and claim it’ distortions of the success Gospel.  A topic which can go off onto rabbit trails. In the midst of an Advent theme of waiting for Christ, we simultaneously practice our way into the already-realized and ever-new Real Presence which has been the experience for Christians in Eucharist for centuries.

For some decades Christians have sung the simple praise song:

He is here, He is here, He is moving among us;

He is here, He is here, as we gather in His Name.

He is here, He is here, and He wants to work a wonder;

He is here, He is Here, as we gather in His Name.

We await His second coming, while at the same time experientially and publicly know the Kingdom of God here and now, ever since the endowment of the living reality of Pentecost.  Pentecost, the Holy Spirit’s continuing presence in the Church, is the overarching, new and eternal ‘new normal.’ In the twentieth century, what used to be called ‘extreme unction’ at the time of death, has been reclaimed as the anointing with oil, unction, in the ministry of healing: Now. Is ‘thy blessed unction from above, comfort, life and fire of love,’ pre-COVID, mid-COVID, or post-COVID?

LaDonna Osborn, who has witnessed thousands and thousands of healings all over the world since she was a child accompanying her mother and father on mass evangelism healing missions, has a simple proclamation of the Gospel: Jesus is the same yesterday, today, and forever; He is here, and he wants to heal you.  T.L. Osborn—son of a dirt-poor Oklahoma dust bowl family—is not fictional, not bogus, not dishonest, nor exploitative. In 1947 Osborn experienced the Risen Christ walking into his bedroom early in the morning. Six decades of very real healings followed this vision, and continue with LaDonna.

In 1948 in Uganda Festo Kivengere was visited at his bedside by the Risen Christ, and decades of worldwide evangelism followed.  I attended his evangelism appearances in Buffalo NY in 1979. When he blessed us in Swahili at the Cathedral at the end of the Eucharist, we all were holding hands, and a dramatic electric current of energy flowed through our hands and arms as we tried to keep holding on to each other. He taught us the simple prayer of inviting Jesus into our hearts. Two years later, at a renewal of baptism and confirmation at the Pecos Monastery, no sooner was this prayer on my lips, than the Risen Christ stood before me, flooding me with love. I realized for the next half hour, with joyful tears, that I didn’t know I had been ‘waiting for Him.’  But I also realized, even more deeply: He had been waiting for me.

Jesus, for His part, waits for us.  

But sometimes, He does not wait. Canon Andrew White writes of Muslims in Baghdad repeatedly coming to him in secret to report that Jesus Christ had appeared to them, entirely unlooked for, in dreams.  As a boy of seven, Abbot David Geraets was healed of years of nightmares when Jesus broke into his dreams one night.

Thomas a’ Kempis in the 15th century and Theophan the Recluse in the 19th, and many others, call them ‘visitations.’ Julian calls them revelations of divine love.  Jesus and the Holy Spirit, twin Divine missionaries, are continuously sent. Agnes Sanford: Jesus did return, in His Holy Spirit, at Pentecost, and so He returns to each of us today.

Somewhere between the Second Coming and the here and now, God values us enough to invest us with the partnership of working with Him to help build the coming Kingdom.

We do so by practicing the charismatic gifts of the Holy Spirit, manifestations of the inbreaking vitality of the Kingdom. We are not masters; we are practitioners. Jesus is the model charismatic for us. We wait, yes, but we practice, i.e., follow Him in active charismatic discipleship. Anticipatory practice. And we receive while we wait.  We practice receptivity, like Mary. Symeon the New Theologian: The best is for all, If only you will accept it.

Evelyn Underhill: Only when our souls are filled to the brim can we presume to offer spiritual gifts to others.  The name ‘Christian’ means Spirit-filled.

The gifts of the Magi are reciprocated by the Holy Spirit giving us the charismatic gifts. They are the gifts of baptism, to be discovered and released and practiced through confirmation, as we come to realize we are pregnant with the Real Presence of the Holy Spirit. Without the charismatic gifts, effectually, our social gospel activities remain bare memorials.

Do we mean to be Zwinglians? Is grace charismatic, God’s Real Presence which humans can experience, or is it merely another overly-conceptualized Christian idea to think about and discuss?  What in fact, do Christians have to ‘give’—charizomai— to anyone?  The mountain-moving faith Jesus invites us to practice is itself a charismatic gift, in its origins and, with the Holy Spirit’s liturgy, in its effects for our brothers and sisters. Being ‘practically Christian’ means practicing the charismatic gifts of the inbreaking Kimgdom. Medical doctors practice medicine. Confirmed Christians practice God-revealing charisms. Orthopraxis.

As one part of ‘waiting’—in regard to ministering to the world with the gifts of the Holy Spirit—there is the turn of phrase: what are we waiting for?  Abbot David: The Red Sea didn’t part until Moses put his foot out.

The Rev. Clyde Glandon

Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma

Seeking Jerusalem

November 29th, 2021

 Matthew 21:1-11

21 When they had come near Jerusalem and had reached Bethphage, at the Mount of Olives, Jesus sent two disciples, 2 saying to them, “Go into the village ahead of you, and immediately you will find a donkey tied, and a colt with her; untie them and bring them to me. 3 If anyone says anything to you, just say this, ‘The Lord needs them.’ And he will send them immediately.” 4 This took place to fulfill what had been spoken through the prophet, saying,

 5 “Tell the daughter of Zion,
Look, your king is coming to you,
    humble, and mounted on a donkey,
        and on a colt, the foal of a donkey.”

6 The disciples went and did as Jesus had directed them; 7 they brought the donkey and the colt, and put their cloaks on them, and he sat on them. 8 A very large crowd spread their cloaks on the road, and others cut branches from the trees and spread them on the road. 9 The crowds that went ahead of him and that followed were shouting,

“Hosanna to the Son of David!
    Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!
Hosanna in the highest heaven!”

10 When he entered Jerusalem, the whole city was in turmoil, asking, “Who is this?” 11 The crowds were saying, “This is the prophet Jesus from Nazareth in Galilee.”

Seeking Jerusalem

Most of my time since COVID started in March 2020 has been in a “bubble” – interacting only with co-workers and residents and with my sister at home. Saint Simeon’s requires staff to wear face masks at all times, except when eating. Since starting as chaplain last December, I have rarely seen the lower portion of staff members’ faces. My senses have been quietened by the relative isolation of my life.

When I registered for a conference earlier this year, the conveners said that—based on the COVID situation in Seattle at the beginning of October—a decision would be made concerning whether we would meet in person or virtually. As I waited for their decision, I found myself longing for the conference to be in person, and yet nervous about traveling as well.

My “re-entry” into a more normal life was not triumphant. Others in the airport would not have known that this was my first flight in 19 months. Fourteen of us gathered at St. Andrews House in Union, Washington—an Episcopal facility owned by the Diocese of Olympia. The nearby retreat facility, Harmony Hills, has a labyrinth. I walked this labyrinth both by myself and with others during the conference.

A labyrinth is not a maze. There is one path that leads to and from the center. Everyone walks the path at their own pace. The path swings right and left, closer and further from the center. For most labyrinths the center is left empty.

But this was not the case for the labyrinth at Harmony Hills: it circled a giant cedar tree. The ground was covered with fragrant cedar needles and the paths were marked by hundreds of clam shells. Two benches at the base of the tree invited me to enter. The maple trees had generously dropped their leaves on one side of the labyrinth and covered most of the paths there. That made walking the first part of the labyrinth an adventure – where was the path?

The gospel records that Jesus entered Jerusalem on a donkey, in fulfillment of a prophecy. There was a long wait between the prophecy and its fulfillment. The last days of Jesus’ life were spent in Jerusalem. He died on the cross there and three days later was raised from the dead. Jesus sent his followers out from Jerusalem to the ends of the earth.

The center of a labyrinth can be called “Jerusalem.” When I finally arrived at the center of the Harmony Hills labyrinth, I was amazed to find tokens inserted into the tree: a bit of blue glass, stones painted with designs or names, and prayer cards. They reminded me of the prayers inserted into limestone at the Wailing Wall in Jerusalem. I slowed down to gaze at them one by one. I sensed in their presence the power of story.

I wonder if entering (or re-entering) a new normal after the pandemic is more about being bravely faithful even if the path is unclear. What if we go to our metaphorical Jerusalem(s) and place tokens of our journeys there? What would you leave? What would you see or hear from others? Where is Jesus?

We are being sent out from Jerusalem. Ready or not, we go in the power of the story of God’s love, made known to us in Bethlehem, in Jerusalem, and to the ends of the earth.

The Rev. Susanne Methven

Chaplain, Saint Simeon’s Senior Community

Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma

Advent Life

November 28th, 2021

Luke 21: 5-19

When some were speaking about the temple, how it was adorned with beautiful stones and gifts dedicated to God, he said, 6 “As for these things that you see, the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down.”

7 They asked him, “Teacher, when will this be, and what will be the sign that this is about to take place?” 8 And he said, “Beware that you are not led astray; for many will come in my name and say, ‘I am he!’ and, ‘The time is near!’ Do not go after them.

9 “When you hear of wars and insurrections, do not be terrified; for these things must take place first, but the end will not follow immediately.” 10 Then he said to them, “Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom; 11 there will be great earthquakes, and in various places famines and plagues; and there will be dreadful portents and great signs from heaven.

12 “But before all this occurs, they will arrest you and persecute you; they will hand you over to synagogues and prisons, and you will be brought before kings and governors because of my name. 13 This will give you an opportunity to testify. 14 So make up your minds not to prepare your defense in advance; 15 for I will give you words and a wisdom that none of your opponents will be able to withstand or contradict. 16 You will be betrayed even by parents and brothers, by relatives and friends; and they will put some of you to death. 17 You will be hated by all because of my name. 18 But not a hair of your head will perish. 19 By your endurance you will gain your souls.

Advent Life

Well. Welcome to Advent? After that scripture, part of me wants to shout, “Alleluia”, while the other part wants to crawl back into bed. Let’s face it, the pervasive sadness permeating our world at the moment is nothing short of ‘stay-in-bed’ worthy. Yet, there have been hope-filled moments in the making. Snapshots of humanity picturesquely captured in beautiful poses; people playing music for one another across balconies; elderly folks receiving groceries from their younger neighbors; church people continuing to feed the hungry and visit the lonely on porches; medical geniuses coming together and formulating the quickest response to any pandemic, ever. The list goes on.

Yet, our eyes and ears have been inundated with the negative.

Like a horrible car accident, we can’t help but fixate on the catastrophic rather than the good. We have opinions about things about which we know very little, yet unashamedly share publicly as though we were the experts. Like a cancer, the insidious negativity has been breeding in our societal world unfettered for almost two years. Two years that seem like a lifetime. Where is our hope? Where is our joy? I feel like we’ve all been waiting for a miracle to occur, ushering us into a new age of proximity and health. Waiting.

Waiting.

Prior to the birth of Christ, that sense of unrest and calamity existed, just as it does today. Of course, in different strokes—and if you ask me, much worse—their calamity took the shape of being enslaved, spread out, kidnapped, culturally co-opted, and then brought back together again. Yet, they shared their stories throughout the generations. They spoke of a day when Messiah would come—the Christ, the savior of God’s making. They taught their children the scriptures of the day, the tales that had been passed down. Around campfires and hearths, the Word of God was breathed through faithful lips in hopeful tones. “He’s coming. Just be patient. The miracle we’re awaiting will save us from this. From all of this.”

I believe this to be the truest form of Advent. We’re already here, we already believe. But do we believe like they did? In the midst of our current suffering, do we remember that our God is mighty to save, that He already sent us a miracle and sacrificed Himself so that we can live? It’s easy to forget in hard times, but that’s what also makes it so valuable. Faith is our salve, our boon, and our hope. Advent is a named season, but really, we’ve been living in one Advent or another for the entirety of our lives. All of us. Whether it be pandemic or war, great depression or mental depression, we each live in an Advent that awaits a miracle.

That awaits a savior.

The good news is this: The Good News.

The anticipation of the Incarnation isn’t just about memorializing Jesus’ birth, it’s also—and chiefly—about remembering our salvation. We exist because of His sacrifice. But without His birth, there could have been none of the former. This year, engage in Advent, the named season. Seek joy. It’s around you, everywhere, all you have to do is look. Remember your baptism, remember the thin spaces, and remember that you aren’t returning to dust just yet. There’s plenty of life left to live, even if only for a moment. So live it. Live into it. Forget all the negative and focus on what really matters—the love of a God who gave you His Son, your friends, family, and pets. Who gives you the peace that passes all understanding, if only you’d ask. He gave us us. And together, there’s no darkness we can’t bring light into. Because we carry the torch of those who came before us, those who believed.

Those who spoke words of hope, saying, “He’s coming. Just be patient. The miracle we’re awaiting will save us from this. From all of this.”

Because He already has.

The Rev. Sean A. Ekberg

Rector, Episcopal Church of the Resurrection

Episcopal Diocese of Oklahoma