The Rev. Canon John Bedingfield's sermon for May 9, 2021 at Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph

 

    

A man walked into a restaurant with a young ostrich behind him, and as he sat down, the waitress came over and asked for his order.

The man said, “I'll have a hamburger, fries and a coke,” then turned to the ostrich. “What's yours?”  “I'll have the same,” said the ostrich.

The waitress returned with the order.  “That will be $11.75 please,” she said.  And the man reached into his pocket and, without even looking at the money, pulled out exact change and handed it to her.

The next day, the man and the ostrich came in again and the man said, “I'll have a hamburger, fries and a coke,” and the ostrich said, “I'll have the same.”  Again the man didn’t even look as he reached into his pocket and paid with exact change.

This became a routine until late one evening, the two entered again. “The usual?” asked the waitress.  “No, this is Saturday night, so I will have a steak, baked potato and salad,” said the man.  “Same for me,” said the ostrich.

When the waitress returned with the order she said, “That will be $24.89.”  Once again the man reached into his pocket and pulled out exact change and placed it on the table.

The waitress couldn’t stand it anymore.  “Excuse me, sir.  How do you manage to always come up with the exact change out of your pocket every time – without even looking at it?”  “Well,” said the man, “several years ago I was cleaning the attic and I found an old lamp.  When I rubbed it a genie appeared and offered me two wishes.  My first wish was that if I ever had to pay for anything, I would just put my hand in my pocket, and the right amount of money would always be there.”  “That's brilliant!” said the waitress.  “Most people would wish for a million dollars or something, but you'll always be as rich as you want for as long as you live!”  “That's right!  Whether it's a gallon of milk or a Rolls Royce, the exact money is always there,” said the man.

The waitress then said, “One other thing, sir, what's with the ostrich?”  The man sighed, and answered, “That’s my second wish.  I wanted a tall chick with long legs who agreed with everything I said!”

In the 1997 Academy Award winning film, Good Will Hunting, there is a wonderful scene near the end of the film.  It takes place in the office of Sean Maguire, a psychologist, played wonderfully by Robin Williams.  Sean has been working with Will Hunting – a troubled mathematical genius – who suffered horrible physical abuse as a child, which left him scarred, both inside and out.  In this climactic scene, Sean admits to Will that he too was physically abused as a boy.  Sean steps close to Will, grabs him by the shoulders, looks him in the eyes and says, “It’s not your fault.”  Meaning that it wasn’t Will’s fault that he had been abused by his father.  Will’s eyes dart away and he says, “Yeah.  I know.”  Sean stays right in front of him and repeats, “It’s not your fault.”  Again, Will’s eyes avert as he says, “Yeah.  I know.”  Sean does this several more times before using an insistent tone when he says, “It’s NOT YOUR FAULT!”  At which point, Will breaks down and sobs.  It is not until Will Hunting finally internalizes – or lets his heart acknowledge – what the therapist has said that he finally begins to FEEL the magnitude of the words.

It is the same way with God’s message of love for us.  Think about the story of humanity’s interaction with God.  God made Adam & Eve, put them in the Garden and said, “I love you.”  They said, “I love you, too,” and they meant it.

After The Fall, (after they did the only thing God told them not to do) they hid and the next time God said, “I love you,” they averted their eyes and said, “Yeah, I know.”  Through the generations, God repeatedly said, “I love you.”  And the people always looked away and said, “Yeah, I know.”  Occasionally the people really got it.  Occasionally they really internalized the message.

The children of Israel were enslaved by Pharaoh and God said, “I love you.”  The children said, “Yeah, we know.”  But when God delivered them on dry land and they stood and watched as the chariots and soldiers were swept away by the Red Sea, God said, “I love you,” and the children said, “Wow!  God REALLY loves us.”  They understood.  But no sooner were they in the wilderness than they forgot again.  And over the succeeding generations, they never seemed to get it. 

When Jesus began His ministry, He taught the people that God loved them and they glanced away and responded, “Yeah, I know.”  But individually, Jesus touched people’s lives and they would say, “Wow!  I get it, God really DOES love me.”  Even as Jesus was touching lives though, most of the people still looked away and said, “Yeah, I know.”

God wanted so much to get the message across, that that’s why God became human – in Jesus Christ – to metaphorically (and in some cases literally) hold us by the shoulders, look us in the eye and repeat over and over, “I love you.”  Jesus said, “Greater love has no one than to lay down his life for a friend.”  That’s exactly what Jesus did.  For us.  There never was a moment in human history where love was more perfectly played out than that one.  Jesus died so that we could live. 

“Jesus said to his disciples, ‘As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you; abide in my love.  If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love.  I have said these things to you so that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be complete.”  In other words, love as Jesus loved, internalize and share God’s “I love you,” to us, and your own joy will be complete, just as God’s joy for you is complete.

Rather than trying to open up God’s undying love for us in words, here is an example of that love being made complete.  This story was told by Sr. Miriam Brasher of the St. Mary’s Convent in Sewanee, Tennessee.

The scene is a courtroom trial in South Africa.  A frail black woman, over 70 years old, gets slowly to her feet.  Facing her are several white security police officers.  One of them, a Mr. van der Broek, has just been tried and found guilty in the murders of the woman’s son and husband.  He had come to the woman’s home, taken her son, shot him at point-blank range, and burned his body while he and his officers partied nearby.

Several years later, van der Broek and his cohorts returned for her husband as well.  For months she heard nothing of his whereabouts.  Then, almost two years after her husband’s disappearance, van der Broek came back to fetch her.

How vividly she remembered that night.  They took her to a riverbank where she saw her husband, bound and beaten, but still strong in spirit, lying on a pile of wood.  The last words she heard from his lips as van der Broek and his fellow officers poured gasoline over his body and set him on fire were, “Father, forgive them … ”

When the woman stood in the courtroom and listened to the confessions of van der Broek, a member of South Africa’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission (the tribunal set up to deal with the aftermath of apartheid-era atrocities) turned to her and said, “So what do you want?  How should justice be done to this man who has so brutally destroyed your family?”

“I want three things,” said the old woman calmly and confidently. “I want first to be taken to the place where my husband’s body was burned to gather up the dust and give his remains a decent burial.”  She paused, then continued, “My husband and son were my only family.  So I want Mr. van der Broek to become my son.  I want him to come twice a month to my house and spend the day with me so I can pour out on him whatever love I have remaining in me.”

“Finally,” she said, “I would like Mr. van der Broek to know that I offer him my forgiveness because Jesus Christ died to forgive.  This was also the wish of my husband.  So, I would kindly ask someone to come to my side and lead me across the courtroom so that I can take Mr. van der Broek in my arms, embrace him and let him know that he is truly forgiven.”  As the court assistants came to lead the woman across the room, van der Broek fainted, overwhelmed by what he had heard.  As he struggled for consciousness, those in the courtroom — family, friends, neighbors, all victims of decades of oppression and injustice — began to sing softly and assuredly, “Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me.”

            In closing, let us again pray this morning’s Collect.  O God, you have prepared for those who love you such good things as surpass our understanding: Pour into our hearts such love towards you, that we, loving you in all things and above all things, may obtain your promises, which exceed all that we can desire; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. 

In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, Amen.

[Easter 6B Sermon 050921, Acts 10:44-48; Psalm 98, 1 John 5:1-6; John 15:9-17]

 

Yoga Wellness Classes at Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph

The Rev. Canon John Bedingfield's sermon for Sunday, May 2, 2021 at Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph

It was a beautiful summer Sunday in a small Southern church, songs had been sung, and the preacher was about to begin his sermon. There was suddenly a loud boom of thunder, and in a bright flash and smell of burning brimstone. And Satan appeared at the pulpit. It terrified the congregation, and they began flooding from every door and window. All except one old woman on the second row. She sat quietly reading the church bulletin. Satan pondered the matter and thought this woman must be deaf and blind or surely she would have departed in terror. Satan asked, “Can you see me?” “Yes, of course,” replied the old woman, still casually reading. “Do you know who I am?” asked Satan. “Certainly.” said the woman, not even bothering to look up. This angered Satan greatly. “Don’t you realize that with the utterance of a single word, I can take your life and condemn you to an eternity in hell?” “Sure.” replied the old woman, now appearing to be a bit bored, but still not looking up from her reading. Satan, now bewildered, asks, “If you know who I am, and what I can do to you, why are you not terrified like the rest?” For the first time the old woman looked up at Satan and replied, “Because I was married to your son for fifty years, and I figured you were just here to get away from him.”

I have been preaching on the topic of love pretty often. You’ll find, as we get to know each other better, that in one way or another, love creeps into most of my sermons. But this morning, the word “love” and its meaning in our lives, is clearly in the center of things. In the reading from the 1st Letter of John, this morning, there are 14 verses, 326 words, and St. John uses the word “love” 29 times! So it is pretty easy to figure out that the author wanted to get a message across with this letter. But there is a problem for those of us who read and discuss this letter in English. We do not have a word in our language for what John was talking about.

In English, the word “love” is a very squishy thing. I love Donna. I love my children and my grandchildren, and my other relatives. I love being a priest. I love this congregation. I love college football. I love playing guitar. I love a good meal, and a good single malt scotch whisky. You see? I used the same word as the verb in every one of those sentences. But the quality of my feelings for each object of the verb is vastly different. St. John the Evangelist though, wrote this letter in Koine (or ancient) Greek. And the Greeks have multiple words for what we simply call, “love.”

15. There is eros (eros).  That is the love of lovers.  When we say that we love a

spouse or significant other, we are (at least partly) saying that we feel eros for them.

15. Then there is filea (philia), or affectionate love. It is partially filea that we are referring to when we say that we love our siblings and other relatives. Parenthetically – the word filea is the reason that Philadelphia is referred to as the City of Brotherly Love. filea -- delfoi (delphoi) literally translates to brotherly love city.

15. And there is storge (storge), which is familial love. It is, again partly, storge that we refer to when we speak of loving our children (or grandchildren). There is a sense of desiring to protect the ones for whom we feel storge. This word is also used to describe love of country.

15. There is ludus (ludus) or playful love. This is what we mean when we talk about young people who have crushes on others. It is a love that is felt deeply, but it has no roots and thus disappears quickly.

15. There is also µania (mania). We are pretty familiar with that one because it comes from Greek to English, almost unchanged. When I say that I love college football, think µania. Although I admit that my mania has subsided a bit in recent years.

15. There is even philautia (philautia), or self-love. In my experience, there is no concept of love that is less understood in this country than is philautia. In America today, either you go so overboard with how much you love yourself that you become a narcissist, or you care very little for yourself. There seems to be no middle ground with most folks.

15. Finally, there is the kind of love that John was talking about. And that is agape (agape). Agape is that love that is self-sacrificing. To feel agape for someone else, is to care about their well-being even more than you care about your own.

Agape refers to boundless compassion and endless empathy. It is the quality of the love that God shows us.

With that definition of agape in mind, you can see why I said that my love for Donna was “partly” eros. Another aspect of my love for her, and for my children, grandchildren, and this congregation, is agape, or at least that is what I strive to show.

It is agape that St. John used when he said, “Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love.” And, “Beloved, since God loved us so much, we also ought to love one another. [I]f we love one another, God lives in us, and his love is perfected in us.”

Having a working definition of agape in mind, we can see what St. John, and before him, Jesus, were trying to tell us. God loved us so much that the creator of the universe – the one and only supreme being of all that is – was willing to humble God’s self to the point of becoming human, thereby saving us from ourselves and from a life of captivity to sin. The level, the depth of that love is beyond measure. And God, through Christ, calls us to love that same way.

Every day – and I mean every … single … day, there are multiple stories in the news about the latest headline-grabbing murders in this country. You cannot read or listen to the news without learning about some new place where someone senselessly shot multiple people; or ran a car into a crowd; or saw someone who did not look or speak as they did and decided to beat them to death because of that difference. America is absolutely, undoubtedly, addicted to violence – both as a solution to perceived problems, and as a way to make a statement.

Do you know what the opposite of agape is? It is not hate. It is violence. The polar opposite of caring about what is best for another person over caring about what is best for self, is doing violence to another person. Nothing could be farther from loving as God loves than is committing violence on someone else. America has a violence problem and our lawmakers need to set aside their ongoing war with each other, and come together to address this problem. I know. First they will have blame someone, some group, some video game, some movie, or something that allows them to absolve themselves of the problem. But at some point, after the posturing, the speechifying, the talking point spewing, they need to address what the real root problem is, and how we can begin to get a handle on it.

The root problem in this country especially, but in the world generally, is a lack of agape. We need more selflessness. We need more empathy. We need more compassion. So what can we, the few people of St. Joseph, Louisiana do to make a difference? Love the Lord your God with all you heart, soul, mind, and strength. And agape your neighbor as yourself. Oh, and one more thing, stop reading and listening to the people in the media (whether paid media or social media) who tell you to fear or hate another group. That will never help. That is not agape.

In the name of the Risen Lord, Amen.

[Easter 5B Sermon 050221, Acts 8:26-40; Psalm 22:24-30, 1 John 4:7-21; John 15:1-8]

Service schedule for May 2021 at Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph

 

--The Rev. Canon John Bedingfield with lead us in Holy Eucharist May 2nd, 9th and 30^th

--Jane Barnett will lead us in Morning Prayer May 16^th and 23^rd.

--Services begin at 10am 

You may read Canon Bedingfield’s sermons and keep up to date on our activities by viewing our BlogSpot at:   http://christepiscopalstjoe.blogspot.com/

 

 

Card from Father Riley (April 18, 2021)

 

The Rev. Canon John Bedingfield's sermon for April 18, 2021

     A young Episcopal priest called all of the children in the congregation to come forward for the children’s sermon on Easter morning.  He started by asking, “What’s warm and furry and hops around on the ground?”  There was silence.  A little perturbed, he tried again.  “What’s warm and furry, hops around on the ground and has long, floppy ears?”  Again, nothing.  Somewhat exasperated, the priest asked, “What’s warm and furry and hops around on the ground and has long, floppy ears and loves carrots?”  One of the boys nudged his friend and said, “I know the answer is supposed to be Jesus, but it sure sounds like a rabbit to me.”

We could begin today’s sermon with a similar line of questioning.  What do all of the readings today have in common?  Just like the little boy, we all KNOW that the answer is always supposed to be Jesus.  But let’s see if maybe there is also something additional we should look at.

In the reading from the Acts of the Apostles, Peter cured a lame man and everyone watched the man walk away.  They were astonished at what had happened, and Peter said, “why do you wonder at this, or why do you stare at us, as though by our own power or piety we had made him walk.”  And then he went on to preach to the gathered crowd about the power and wonder of the risen Lord.

In the Gospel, Luke tells us about Jesus appearing to the Disciples, shortly after the Resurrection.  They were in the midst of despair over His death, and suddenly there He was.  The first thing He said to them was, “Peace be with you.”  And then, he began to convince them that He was real and was risen.  And He said, “repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in (Jesus’) name to all nations, ….  (Because) You are witnesses of these things.”  In other words, you know who I am, you have experienced the power of God in your own lives, now you must go out and show others what you know.

And what did they know?  They knew what the author of 1st John said in this morning’s reading.  “See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.  …  Beloved, we are God's children now; what we will be has not yet been revealed.”

And what would God reveal to them about who God was – and is?  The Psalmist tells us, “(P)ut your trust in the LORD.  Many are saying, ‘Oh, that we might see better times!’  Lift up the light of your countenance upon us, O LORD.  You have put gladness in my heart, more than when grain and wine and oil increase.  I lie down in peace; at once I fall asleep; for only you, LORD, make me dwell in safety.”

I know the answer is supposed to be Jesus, but this sure looks like love to me.  In the Collect of the Day this morning, we prayed, “Open the eyes of our faith, that we may behold Him in all His redeeming work.”  That redeeming work is love.  

I read an article by the Rev. King Oehmig, an Episcopal priest and scholar, who talked the book, Life of Pi.  In the interest of full disclosure, I have only read excerpts from the book and seen the movie.  But in the story, Pi is young boy who moves with his family from India to Canada.  They cross the ocean on a cargo ship which is also carrying the animals from the zoo that Pi’s father operated in India, but which he had to close.  During the ocean crossing, the ship sinks and Pi ends up in a lifeboat with a zebra, an orangutan, a hyena and a tiger.  Needless to say, the story gets interesting.  Added to all of the drama of the animals in the boat with Pi is the fact that Pi is a very religious Hindu who is also a follower of Islam and Christianity.  Pi loves God and spends a great deal of time thinking back on what he has learned about God.  King said this about Pi’s Christian awakening:

Pi (has trouble understanding) ‘Christ crucified.’  Father Martin, a Catholic priest who befriends Pi, listens to the young man’s questions.

Pi says to Fr. Martin, ‘What?  Humanity sins, but it is God’s Son who pays the price?  I tried to imagine my own father saying to me, ‘Pi, a lion slipped into the llama pen today and killed two llamas.  Yesterday another one killed a black buck.  Last week two of them ate the camel.  The week before it was painted storks and grey herons.  And who’s to say for sure who snacked on our golden agouti?’  The situation has become intolerable.  Something must be done.  I have decided that the only way the lions can atone for their sins is if I feed you to them.’

‘Yes, Father, (Pi says) that would be the right and logical thing to do.  Give me a moment to wash up.’  Hallelujah, my son.  Hallelujah, Father.’  What a downright weird story.  What a peculiar psychology!’

Pi goes on, ‘Why would God wish that upon himself?  Why not leave death to the mortals.  Why make dirty what was beautiful, spoil what is perfect?  Love.  That was Father Martin’s answer.

Love.  The author of John’s first epistle uses that word 38 times in only 5 chapters.  This love that John talks about, the love that was so confusing to Pi when Fr. Martin tried to explain it, is a love that is even hard us to understand – and we’ve known Jesus all our lives.

Jesus came into the upper room, where the disciples were hiding from the authorities after the crucifixion.  They were all there.  All of the people who said that they loved Him during His earthly ministry were there … and none of them had lifted a hand to help Him in His time of need.  But Jesus was there too.  The Love was there.

Jesus came into the room and said, “Peace be with you.”  To a room full of people who had let Him down, He said, “Peace be with you.”  And then He sat down and had a meal with them.  He opened their minds and their hearts to the truth of who He is and what that means.  

See what love the Father has given us, that we should be called children of God; and that is what we are.  Beloved, we are children of God – the God who loved us enough to sacrifice His only Son on our behalf.  We are all children of the one who loves us and wants nothing more than that we reflect that love to each other.  He wants to open our minds and hearts to His love.  And He wants us to love each other, just as He has loved us.  He wants us to love each other unconditionally, to be for each other what Jesus was to them – the embodiment of love.  Jesus told the Disciples – and us – to love each other, no matter what.  John tells us that we don’t know what we will be like in the end.  But we do know what we are supposed to be like now.  We are supposed to be like him – loving of those who hurt us – loving the prodigal sons of the world – loving the unlovable.  That’s what He tells us we are supposed to be like – the presence of love in the world.

Yep.  Definitely sounds like love to me – the love that can only come through the grace of God.  Love.  Feel it.  Embrace it.  Reflect it to those you know.  

In the name of the Risen Lord, Amen.

[Easter 3B Sermon 041821, Acts 3:12-19; Psalm 4, 1 John 3:1-7; Luke 24:36b-48]

Mission information from the diocese

 

Neighbor to Neighbor 

The Diocese of Western Louisiana invites you to consider a new way your congregation can support  asylum seekers in your own, local context. 

Neighbor to Neighbor is a network designed to connect asylum seekers with Episcopal congregations in  local communities across the US. Led by Episcopal Migration Ministries, Neighbor to Neighbor seeks to  provide a way for Episcopalians to accompany, assist and support asylum seekers who live close to  them, and is committed to offering congregational groups training and support as their relationships with  these newest neighbors develop and grow. 

To learn more, please come to our online Neighbor to Neighbor learning event on Monday, May 17,  5:30-7:00 pm. Information about Zoom registration for the event will be available soon. 

If you have other questions, please contact Joy Owensby, joy@epiwla.org, or Neighbor to Neighbor’s  Missioner, the Rev. Cristina Rathbone, at crathbone@episcopalnetworks.org.