Service schedule for Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph, for June 2024

Tim provided the following schedule of services for June 2024:

Sunday (6/16) is Morning Prayer at 10:00am with Jane Barnett officiating.

Wednesday (6/19) is Holy Eucharist at 5:00pm with Fr. Don Smith and Deacon Bette Kauffman officiating.  The quarterly vestry meeting will follow after the service in the Parish Hall.

Sunday (6/23) is Holy Eucharist at 10:00am with Fr. Don Smith officiating along with the Order of Holy Baptism celebrating the christening of Brenda and Dr. Jim Funderburg’s grandchild.

Sunday (6/30) is Morning Prayer at 10:00am with Tim Sessions officiating.

The Rev. Deacon Dr. Bette Kauffman's homily from June 2, 2024 at Christ Episcopal Saint Joseph, LA

 Love the Law

Many years ago, sometime in the mid-70s, I drove about halfway across the country from southeastern Iowa to Philadelphia to get my graduate degrees from the University of Pennsylvania. Along the way, I stopped in Ohio to spend a couple of days with my elderly grandfather Abe Kaufman, who lived with my spinster Aunt Sarah, the youngest of my father’s eleven siblings.

I arrived on a Friday and the next morning, Saturday, Aunt Sarah informed me that it was “wash day” and asked if I had anything that needed to be washed. I understood that by “wash day” she meant “laundry day,” but I had just left home and my clothes were all clean.

What happened next almost caused me to laugh out loud. You see, my father was raised Old Order Amish. That’s the Christian denomination that takes very seriously Jesus’ admonition that we, his followers, are not of this world; we do not and should not “belong to” worldly things.

One of the ways they live that commitment is by not electrifying their homes. That powerline that would have to come from the “worldly” power grid onto their property would be a permanent connection to “the world,” and therefore was prohibited by Old Order Amish law.

So I was actually quite curious about how Aunt Sarah was going to “do the wash.” I suppose I expected tubs of water, a washboard, and so forth. Instead, she wheeled a generator out of a closet, poured gasoline into the tank, fired it up, and plugged in the washing machine.

I tell you this story not to make fun of my relatives or of a religious institution that forbids powerlines but allows plugging into gasoline powered generators--although that indeed takes creative law-making!

Rather, I tell the story to help us reflect on the relationship between “the Law” and all religious rules and standards, and the Good News of God’s love for humankind that Jesus came to embody and deliver.

It would be easy—and fun—to conclude from today’s Gospel story, that Jesus came to obliterate the law. This story, in conjunction with other New Testament teachings that God loves us and is always ready to forgive, indeed forgives before we even ask, seem to add up to “anything goes.” Therefore, you can do anything you please! Whoopeee!

I have indeed heard Christianity criticized for that very thing: What’s the point of a religion that bases everything on the concept of mercy and unconditional love and forgiveness? Why would or should anyone “behave”?

But that’s of course not really the point of the story.  How appropriate it is that on the very day we read the story of Jesus invoking the wrath of the Pharisees by allowing his disciples to pick grain to eat, and he himself healing on the Sabbath, we also read from Deuteronomy God’s institution of the Sabbath as a holy day of rest. 

Jesus says, the Sabbath is made for us, NOT us for the Sabbath. What’s not to love about that? Far from being a burdensome mandate that we must grudgingly keep to avoid the wrath of God—or, more likely, the Pharisees among us—God established the Sabbath for our benefit.

Here’s the point. The law is for us to love, not to hate. Because the law is made for us. It is to remind us to do things that are good for us, like rest, and give a rest to all those who work for us or to our benefit. The law recognizes that every person and thing—even the land and the critters—needs rest.

The law recognizes that it is not good for us to steal from one another or exploit one another for our own personal gain. The law recognizes that it is not good for us to lie to one another or bear false witness against one another. The law recognizes and upholds many things that make for a better social order for humankind.

But the law is not God and is not perfect. Never confuse the law—even God’s law—with God. God is bigger even than God’s law, which is exactly what Jesus means when he says, The Son of Man is lord even of the Sabbath.

The law must always be applied with love and compassion and mercy and sensitivity to different situations and circumstances. That is how Jesus fulfills the law: by showing us how to apply it with love and compassion and mercy and sensitivity to different situations and circumstances.

What Jesus is arguing against in today’s Gospel story is not the law per se, but “legalism,” which is using the law as a cudgel. Legalism is taking a line of scripture out of context and using it to beat up people.

Now to revisit the story of my Aunt Sarah and her generator for a moment, it’s important to note that not all “legalism” is the same. Yes, it is “legalism” to have a rule against powerlines and then an exception to the rule that allows gas-powered generators.

But that’s a pretty harmless—I would even say “silly”—form of legalism. It hurts no one. Moreover, the Amish are a pretty loving, compassionate and merciful community. They help each other, they care for their elderly and anyone else who can’t care for themselves, and they are known to be more forgiving than most of us could manage.

The legalism that Jesus speaks against is the legalism that does harm, and not only that which does harm, but fails to do the good God has put within our reach to do. Jesus healed people, thus for him to fail to heal the man with the withered hand because it was the Sabbath would have been a form of harmful legalism.

Sadly, some of our Christian brothers and sisters seem to think that our job is to use the Bible to beat up people. And it is certainly possible to do that. The Bible says many things and can be made to say many things by how a given reader selects and uses various passages.

But beating up people with the Bible is not our job. Our job is fierce, unending, ever-compassionate, ever-empathetic love. Our job is calling ourselves and others to live a life in accordance with the law out of pure gratitude for the love bestowed upon us. Love is our response to the law. Love is how we live the law.

In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. AMEN.

(Deuteronomy 5:12-15; 2 Corinthians 4:5-12; Mark 2:23-3:6)

Upcoming services at Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph

 The following services are planned for April 14 thru May 5, 2024:

Sundays April 14, 21, 28....Morning Prayer at 10am with Jane and/or Tim

Wednesday April 17..........Holy Eucharist at 5pm with Rev. Don

Sunday May 5....................Morning Prayer with Holy Communion at 10am with Deacon Bette

Services at Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph March 2024

 

The following services are planned for Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph:

...Good Friday (March 29) at 5pm with The Rev. Deacon Dr. Bette Kauffman

...Easter Sunday (March 31) at 10am with The Rev. Mary Richard

The Rev. Deacon Dr. Bette Kauffman's homily from February 4, 2024

"The First Deacon"

by The Rev. Deacon Dr. Bette Kauffman

4 February 2024, Christ Episcopal Church, St. Joseph, LA

Year B, Epiphany 5 Isaiah 40:21-31, 1 Corinthians 9:16-23, Mark 1:29-39

 

Today’s Gospel lesson is the story of Jesus healing Peter’s mother-in-law. This story lays out a pattern for us, actually a couple of patterns that are well worthy of our reflection as we head toward Lent.

The first pattern is set by Peter’s mother-in-law. She was, no doubt, in charge of the household. That’s the way it was. The senior woman—the matriarch—was in charge of the household.

She is sick when Jesus arrives. I like to think she was sick from doing “grandma daycare”! I do grandma daycare and love to do it, but occasionally I come down with some kid disease the grandbabies caught in regular daycare.

In any case, although she is sick, Jesus is welcomed in. He learns of her illness and immediately goes to her bedside.

Now I must pause to explain a couple of things because so much in our reading of Holy Scripture is lost in translation. Our reading says Jesus “lifted her up.” The Greek used here is the same exact word as is used for Jesus’ resurrection.

So what we have here is a mini Easter, a foreshadowing of the Easter story. She is not dead, but in a sense, Jesus resurrects her. And what does she do? Immediately she begins to serve.

Again, our lesson says she begins to “wait on them,” and the Greek word used for that is diaconia. And diaconia means “service among others.” It is also the source of the word “deacon,” and deacons are the icons and leaders of servant ministry in the church. So Peter’s mother-in-law is, in that sense, the church’s first deacon.

But remember what Jesus said about himself. For the son of man came not to be served but to serve (Mark 10:45). We are all called to serve, from Jesus on down. We are all called to announce the Gospel by our actions in service to others.

Peter’s mother-in-law’s home becomes a house church, a home base, a gathering place for those who need forgiveness, healing. Our translation of this story says “the whole city was gathered around the door.” Older translations say "the whole world was pressing up against the door."

It’s important to note that Peter’s mother-in-law’s home, powered by the Love of God in Jesus, is a new kind of gathering place, one outside of the mainstream of religious institutions. And outside of the mainstream of religious instiutions is where Jesus did most of his work. Yes, he preached in the synagogues. But the places place of healing, administering justice, and helping all who come looking for him mostly happened in this new type of gathering place, outside of the mainstream.

So that’s the first pattern: Peter’s mother-in-law receives the Love of God in Jesus into her home/life, she is raised up from her place of weakness by the Love, and the Love shines through her and her home as she ministers to others. To this day, her home in the middle east is a revered site of healing and pilgrimage.

In what ways does your own life become a conduit for God’s Love? In what ways has your home become a base for comings and goings in Love?

The second pattern in this story is set by Jesus himself. He serves; he heals the multitudes pressing at the door. The story say he began healing at sundown; it was probably the Sabbath. And from sundown until who knows what wee hour of the night, he healed the multitude at the door. He must have gone to bed exhausted.

Nevertheless, he gets up early, the story says, emphasizing that it was still very very dark. He gets up and goes to a deserted place to pray.

Which of us has ever done that? Or would do it? I might indeed wake up early when the house is quiet and everyone else asleep. But if I think of praying, I am most likely to convince myself that I’ll just lay here in bed and pray, right?! And I’ll be back asleep again in minutes.

We’ll get up early to go hunting. Or to catch an early flight. But to get dressed to go out in search of silence and solitude? Not likely.

But Jesus must refresh his relationship with Divine Love through prayer in silence and solitude. He must go back to the source of all Love.

Thomas Merton was a monk and poet who lived alone in a cabin in the woods that he called “the hermitage.” He so craved solitude that he got special permission to live by himself in this cabin, rather than in the monastery proper, where he went for meals and communal worship services.

Here’s Merton’s description of what I think Jesus is up to in this story: Let me seek, then, the gift of silence … and solitude, where everything I touch is turned into prayer: where the sky is my prayer, the birds are my prayer, the wind in the trees is my prayer, for God is all in all.

Wherever you go—outdoors, a space in your home, an empty church (Christ Church is never locked. St. Thomas’ in Monroe doesn’t even have a lock on the front doors.)—the more silence and solitude the better. Go, listen, which is a form of prayer, breathe—breathe in God’s love, wisdom, peace…

And what does Jesus do next? Restored, he plunges back into the waiting world. He answers his call, he expands his ministry. He takes his disciples to spread the good news of God’s love to the neighboring villages.

Seeking, loving and serving human beings is as much an absolute as seeking, loving and serving God. One movement is vertical, the other horizontal; both are essential.

Jesus left us in no doubt about the necessity of this simultaneous movement in two planes: toward God and toward each other.

Here’s how author Carlo Caretto puts it: The closer you come to God …, the greater … your craving to love human beings on the level of action. The perfection of men and women on earth consists in the integration … of our love for God and our love for human beings.

Notice now, these two patterns:

Peter’s mother-in-law receives the Love of God in the person of Jesus into her home and life, he reaches out to her in her weakness and raises her up, and she responds with diaconia, loving service to humankind that extends far beyond her immediate household.

Jesus, full of God’s Love, heals and serves and ministers to the world pressing at the door, goes out into silence and solitude—that is, prayer—to be refreshed by the very source of Divine Love, then returns to the world to expand his own ministry in love to the world.

These are really two versions of one pattern—the very same pattern we will shortly enact. We serve. We get spent and exhausted and cranky and sick and tired of it all. We come to the Holy Table to be refreshed, to be renewed in body, mind and spirit. And we go back out to serve some more.

That is our theology of Holy Communion. That is what we who are dwelling places of the Holy Spirit do.

 

In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, AMEN.

 

Sad news and service schedule

Service Schedule:

December 20: 5pm Holy Eucharist The Rev. Don Smith

December 24: 2pm Morning Prayer with Communion, The Rev. Deacon Bette Kauffman

December 28: 1pm visitation and 2pm memorial service for Nicholas Isaiah Dorrell with Rev. Don and Deacon Bette

Nicholas Isaiah Dorrell

July 13, 1996 - December 18, 2023

It is with great sadness that we announce Nicholas Isaiah Dorrell, a member of our congregational family, passed away on December 18, 2023, from an overdose of fentanyl. He was 27 years old. Incredibly intelligent and funny, he was loved by all who met him, and his joyous laughter will now bless heaven. He enjoyed boating, the beach, and anything to do with the great outdoors. Over his too-short lifespan, Nick enjoyed work as a deck hand and engineer for tow boat companies ranging from the northern reaches of the Mississippi River, east to Panama City, FL, and west in the Intracoastal Waterway to Texas. He also had jobs cooking crawfish, working as a farm hand and construction work including heavy equipment and boat operations. Nick lived in Tensas Parish for numerous years and became friends with many of the officers of the Tensas Parish Sheriff’s Office due to his exuberant driving habits. Nick also had a love for animals, several of whom he brought home, including chickens, turkens, an opossum, a calf, and most recently a kitten named PJ. He will be greeted in heaven by his first puppy Money Dog and his later dogs, Maggie and Beaudreaux. He is preceded in death by his maternal and paternal great-grandparents, and two second cousins. He is survived by his parents Shelley and Laurence Leyens, David and Kim Dorrell, brothers Corey Leyens and Junior Dorrell, and sister Madison Leyens.  Nick is also survived by his grandparents Nancy and Brent Smith of Vicksburg, MS and Faye and Sam Corson of Saint Joseph, LA. Visitation and service will be held at Christ Episcopal Church in St. Joseph, Louisiana, on December 28, 2023. Visitation is at 1:00 p.m. in the Parish House and the service at 2:00 p.m. Prior to fentanyl addiction, Nicholas lived life to its fullest. In lieu of flowers, please mail donations in memory of Nicholas to Home of Grace, Donation Services, PO Box 5009, Vancleave, MS. Or, via their website @ https://www.homeofgrace.org/give/

The Rev. Deacon Dr. Bette Kauffman's homily from December 10, 2023

 Hanging Out

Christ Episcopal Church, St. Joseph

(Year B, Advent II, Isaiah 49:1-11, 2 Peter 3:8-15a, Mark 1:1-8)

It is easy to rush through Advent. Indeed, our lives at this time of year seem especially geared to push us relentlessly forward at an ever more frantic pace.

In my life, this past week was especially tiring. Our Grace Episcopal Day School & Nursery celebrated with our annual Christmas Festival Thursday afternoon. The first few days of the week were all preparation: working out last minute logistics, sending out messages to teachers and parents, pulling festival games out of storage and setting them up, decorating. Then Friday was all clean up, put away, etc. 

It seems that our approach to that other penitential season—Lent—is so different. Easter seems far away as we gather Ash Wednesday to begin weeks of abstaining from something important to us, and commitment to fasting, reflection and alms-giving.

In contrast, the beginning of Advent is a mad dash into planning, shopping, decorating, office receptions and parties with their special foods and beverages, and more. It is a time of year when our society does everything in its power to entice us to over-indulge in every way possible, beginning with Thanksgiving and going all the way to Christmas.

For the past few years, many Christians have been quick to complain of a so-called “attack on Christmas.” I am far more likely to bemoan the attack on Advent! The first Christmas tree I saw this year appeared in Sam’s Club… before Halloween! I was stunned and dismayed.

Today’s lessons—Isaiah’s cry on behalf of the Israelites, John the Baptist’s rough-hewn lifestyle and in-your-face preaching—seem truly misplaced amongst the cheery holiday music, fresh greenery and glittering ornaments that have already filled our lives. Who wants to go into the wilderness when we can hang out here in Christmasland?!

But the wilderness has things to offer that we cannot find in the hustle and bustle and beauty of Christmasland. Holy things. And these passages give us some clues. This morning I invite you to hang out for a time in the Holy Land of Advent.

Let’s begin with the words of Isaiah (Isaiah 40:1-11, NRSV):

Comfort, O comfort my people, 

says your God. 

Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, 

and cry to her 

that she has served her term, 

that her penalty is paid, 

that she has received from the LORD's hand 

double for all her sins. 

Of course, Western Christians can hardly hear these words without hearing the soaring music of Handel’s Messiah. But the prophet does not allow us to simply rush straight to the triumph of the Allelujah chorus!

First, even as we are comforted, we are reminded that we need comfort due to the magnitude of our sins and the penalty we have paid. We have suffered as a result of our estrangement from God.

Please do not hear that as a theology of retribution. The bad things that happen in our lives are not God’s punishment for our sins. Rather, things go wrong in our lives and we lose sight of God. We try to comfort ourselves with all the wrong things—mood-altering substances like alcohol, extreme busy-ness, spending money, whatever—and the more we do that, the farther away God seems to be. And we suffer.

Second, Isaiah draws attention to the one thing that most reliably causes humankind to suffer, and that is our mortality. We are flowers, beautiful but fragile, for flowers do not last. The wind blows. We wither and die. All of us in this space this morning are old enough to have dealt with loss.

Memento morí…?

This world often seems devoid of the comforting presence of God! We often feel forsaken by God! Isaiah reassures us that God is there in the wilderness of our lives. That God patiently waits to speak tenderly to us, to feed us and to gather us and to gently lead us home.

Turning to today’s Gospel lesson (Mark 1:1-8, NRSV), I’m again struck by these opening words:

The beginning of the good news of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

As it is written in the prophet Isaiah,

"See, I am sending my messenger ahead of you, 

who will prepare your way; 

the voice of one crying out in the wilderness: 

`Prepare the way of the Lord, 

make his paths straight,'" 

With this enigmatic opening, St. Mark connects his main character, Jesus the Christ, with the God of Hebrew Scripture, through his lead character, John the Baptizer.

John the Baptizer hung out in the wilderness, and people went in droves to hear him—in spite of the fact that he bore the bad news of sin and the need for repentance. Indeed, in Matthew’s account, John calls the religious elite of his day a brood of vipers!

So why did the people flock to him? As Mark says, he also bore the good news of another to come, one who would share with us the forgiving waters of baptism, but one who had more—much more—to offer.

The one who is more powerful than I is coming after me, John says. I have baptized you with water; but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.

We go into the wilderness to repent, wait and prepare. In today’s epistle (1 Peter 3:8-15a, NRSV), St. Peter tells us how: Patiently, because God’s days are unlike ours and God has been more than patient with we. Keeping awake, for we do not know when God comes again. Living godly lives, doing the things God has called us to do to hasten the kingdom—which we know from Jesus’ teaching means loving God and our neighbor as ourselves.

Dear friends, let us hang out for a while in the holy land of Advent. For here we find God’s comforting promise of mercy and grace bestowed in the coming of the one for whom we prepare—the one of power and glory who baptizes with the Holy Spirit.

In the name of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit. AMEN.