Service Schedule for Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph Feb 16-Mar 2, 2025:
...Sunday 10am, Feb 16, HE, The Rev. John Payne
...Sunday 10am, Feb 23, MP, Jane or Tim
...Wednesday 5pm, Feb 26, HE, The Rev. David Perkins
...Sunday 10am, Mar 2, MP w/Communion, The Rev. Deacon B
"Sufficient Grace"
by The Rev. Deacon Dr. Bette Kauffman
9 February 2025
Christ Episcopal Church, St.
Joseph, LA
Year C, Epiphany 5
Isaiah
6:1-8.9-13; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11
I love trees. That’s such an
understatement, but I don’t know how else to begin. Of course, you all know as
a photographer I kind of have a love affair with all of Creation. But… trees
are something else again!
Standing in the yard next door to
this church is a tree that has been trimmed. Where lower branches have been
removed, the tree grew magnificent cascades of wood and bark draped around the
wounds of those amputated limbs.
When trees lose limbs—in peoples’
yards or out in the forest--the classic response to the harsh reality of injury
is to grow beauty around it.
Up at the spillway that forms
D’Arbonne Lake, the centerpiece of D’Arbonne National Wildlife Refuge, stands a
large oak tree. That tree has been under attack for decades. The tree is
covered, I mean covered, with large, gnarly galls—on the trunk, on all
the major branches and on most of the minor limbs—dozens of them, some still
small, some the size of basketballs, and larger. I have no idea who or what the
attacker is, other than some kind of insect. Yet the tree stands, tall and
strong, with a kind of grotesque beauty.
So.. why am I talking about
trees? Well, because Peter!
In today’s Gospel story, Simon
Peter finds himself in the presence of Jesus, the Light that has come into the
world. This is the 5th Sunday after the Epiphany and another story
of the showing forth of the Light.
This is the same light that
Simeon sang and prophesied about last Sunday when Jesus was presented in the
temple. A Light to enlighten the nations, he called it, and the glory
of my people Israel.
Then in his prophesy, Simeon
foreshadows the cross. He points out that the Light that comes into the world
will be the rising of many people, but the fall of others. In other words, some
will flock to the Light and experience freedom from fear as Simeon did, and
others will reject the Light and live in darkness, burdened by sin and the fear
of death.
See, there’s a funny thing about
light: It reveals. It reveals both beauty and ugliness, it reveals both love
and hate. Light reveals.
So when Simon Peter comes face to
face with the Light—the ultimate Light of God—something most extraordinary
happens. He suddenly sees himself for who he really is. And his instinctual
response is to get rid of the Light!
He falls to his knees and says,
"Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!"
How human is that? Go away!
You’re making me look bad! Right?
But here’s the miracle: Simon
Peter does not run away, and neither does Jesus. And later, when Jesus does go
on his way, Peter goes with him. Peter leaves everything—his boats, his nets,
his fishing business, his father—and follows Jesus. This encounter between the
Light of the world and a sinful man is the first moment of a transformed life.
Does Peter suddenly become a
perfect, sinless human? Far from it. We know from the stories that Peter
remains an impetuous, headstrong man. At one point, Jesus must say to him, “Get
behind me, Satan”! At another Peter denies knowing Jesus three times.
But Jesus loves Peter with all
his flaws and Jesus knows how to use Peter, faults and sins and all. Come on,
he says, I’m gonna make you a fisher for people. And he does.
And that’s how Peter is like
those trees. He became tall and strong and the founder of Christ’s church—not
by being human perfection, which he wasn’t, but precisely by being the warty,
wounded, imperfect human he was.
Likewise Paul, in the passage we
read from Corinthians. He calls himself the least of the Apostles because he
persecuted the church. But there he is, the writer of most of the Epistles that
help form the foundations of our faith. Another warty, wounded human God loved
and used, imperfections and all.
Brothers and sisters, we so often
share the impulse of Peter. We prefer, in the first place, to hide from the
Light that reveals our sins and failures and imperfections. Confronted by it,
we would push it away or flee from it.
Fr. Richard Rohr, one of my
favorite theologians, calls these sins, failures and imperfections our “shadow
self.” And he says the only way to come to terms with our shadow self is to
honestly acknowledge who we are in our darkest moments. We need the honesty and
courage of Peter to fall to our knees and acknowledge who we truly are, then
let God use us, warts and all.
Rohr summarizes the point like
this:
Divine perfection, he says, is
precisely the ability to include what seems like imperfection.
In other words, everything
belongs. We are who we are and God loves us as we are and will use us as we
are. We might not end up beautiful in a classic way. We might end up a
misshapen tree. But God can and will make anything beautiful in its own way.
There’s nothing wrong with trying
to improve oneself, striving to live a more moral life, to be quick to forgive,
to choose kindness. These are all things we can do better and we will be happier
for doing them better.
But we cannot use our sins and
imperfections to hide from God or to postpone following Jesus. We must trust
that God knows exactly how to take us as we are and use us.
In the Name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, AMEN.
