Here is the updated service schedule for Christ Episcopal:
Sunday, Aug 28 10am Morning Prayer, Mrs. Jane Barnett
Sunday, Sep 4 10am MP with Communion, The Rev. Deacon Bette Kauffman
Sunday, Sep 11 10am Holy Eucharist, The Rev. Paul Martin
Sunday, Sep 18 10am Morning Prayer, Mrs. Jane Barnett
Wednesday, Sep 21 5pm Holy Eucharist, The Rev. Don Smith
Sunday, Sep 25 10am Morning Prayer, Mrs. Jane Barnett
Service schedule for August 2022:
Sundays August 14, 21; 28: Morning Prayer, 10am with Mrs. Jane Barnett
Wednesday August 17: Holy Eucharist, 5pm with The Rev. Don Smith
Stuff & Treasure
On the windowsill over the sink in my kitchen is a treasure. It’s a little brown rock, about the size of a meatball—the kind you see in chafing dishes at receptions. It’s a pretty ordinary looking rock, except… It has a heart!
I don’t know how it came to be, but this plain brown rock has one kind of flat side and there on the flat side, if you tilt it at just the right angle, is a perfectly heart-shaped opening. A friend who knows that I collect treasures gave me “Rock with a Heart.” She found it lying on the ground, “in plain sight,” she said.
But… on the windowsill, right next to Rock with a Heart, is… well, a bunch of stuff: A tic tac container with several ancient tic tacs in it. One of those joke half-mugs that cleverly declares, “You asked for half a cup of coffee.” That was a treasure—briefly. Now it’s a dust collector.
On a shelf above the TV is a couple of inches of armadillo tail, picked clean of tissue such that its intricate bony architecture is clearly revealed. Why so homely a critter requires such an extraordinary tail structure I don’t know. To me it’s an exuberant, over-the-top expression of its Creator—here just for the glory of it. A treasure.
But right next to it? More dust collectors: Things you thought you couldn’t live without.. for some brief moment in the distant past. Today? Meh.
We could continue. My house is strewn with treasures. Among the rocks, bones and shells, you will also find human-made treasures, like the glass ibis figurine my sister gave me when I admired it in her home.
But for every treasure... an equal or larger portion of stuff. How did I come to have… All. This. Stuff? Lately, my house full of stuff has come to feel burdensome, stifling, a huge distraction from the things that really matter. And so I am in the process of down-sizing! I got rid of stuff this summer, but, alas, I have far to go….
Many people take today’s Gospel lesson to be about long-term planning. There’s that reference to “laying up treasures in heaven,” and so we want to make this teaching an evacuation plan for that next place we’ll go to someday after we die. ‘Be good now—moral, pious—and go to heaven later.’
I beg to disagree. Jesus tells us over and over throughout his ministry on earth: The kingdom is at hand. The kingdom is within and among you.
And today’s lesson: Do not be afraid, little flock, for it is your Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give alms.
That’s all present tense! I’m reminded of how my sister gave me that glass ibis. I was visiting her and noticed it sitting on her windowsill. And I told her the story of waking up one morning to a flock of ibises in my back yard feasting on crawfish brought up by a heavy rain.
And my sister insisted on giving me the figurine. Right then. On the spot. She didn’t put it in her will, she picked it up and put it in my hands. And when I protested she said much the same thing Jesus says on this occasion: It is my pleasure to give it to you.
But here’s the tricky part. Yes, the glass ibis is a sort of treasure. But it’s not.. the real.. treasure. The glass ibis could get knocked off my windowsill to shatter on the floor today, and I’d still have the real treasure—my relationship with my sister and an act of solidarity between us that carried that relationship forward.
We humans easily confuse things, mementos, STUFF… with the real treasure—namely our relationships with each other, and with Creation, and thereby.. with God.
That’s what I think today’s lesson is all about: Recognizing and cultivating the real treasure, our relationship with God manifested in the here and now in our relationships with people and God’s Creation.
How, indeed, would we treat people if, at every moment, we were awake to the presence of God in them and viewed them as the Master coming to fasten his belt and have [us] sit down to eat? And, indeed, to serve us?
How’s that for a reversal! Let me say it again in a slightly different way. Our relationships with people are the real treasures. Our relationships are the Kingdom here and now. Relationships with each other are the purses that will last. They are the result and the medium of our relationship with God!
Now that is somewhat easy to see when it comes to family, as the story about the glass ibis and my sister illustrates. We don’t need to be admonished to be ready and awake to accept the gift of family relationships. That kind of comes naturally.
Other folks, not so much. Other folks often appear to us as one more burdensome issue or problem we must deal with. And the more different from us they are, in terms of skin color, religion, social class, work ethic, values, ways of being in the world… the less likely we are to be ready and open to the fact that a relationship with them just might be a feast served by the Master himself.
But Jesus told us, you must be willing to leave your family behind. Jesus modeled for us a different way, a way contrary to our instincts, a reversal of our “natural attitude,” by inviting relationships with everyone he encountered.
My friends, we all have a God-shaped hole in the side of our heart. And that is the truest treasure, the treasure that makes all of the other treasures—the treasure of relationship with God, self and neighbor—possible.
But the God-shaped hole in the side of our heart often gets… well, full of dirt. Stuff falls in! Sometimes we literally cover it over with whatever we can! We wall over the God-shaped hole in our heart, and we do it for a variety of reasons.
One really big, important reason we do it is fear. We fear those who are different from us. And sometimes our fears are fanned by hateful language on social media and from people in power who ought to know and act better.
Who remembers Pogo? I love cartoons. They so often express things we find hard to say straight up. And perhaps my favorite of all time is Pogo saying, We have met the enemy, and he is us!
But we are and can be bigger than our fears. Or our hurt. Or our anger, which often goes hand in hand with both fear and hurt. These are the things that build walls around human hearts.
But the treasure is inside us. It is a God-shaped, Love-shaped hole in the side of our hearts. And how we tend to that hole in our heart matters.
One of my favorite poets is Emily Dickinson, and she has addressed precisely this thing. Here’s her poem, “To Fill a Gap.”
To fill a Gap
Insert the Thing that caused it—
Block it up
With Other—and ’twill yawn the more—
You cannot solder an Abyss
With Air.
Brothers and Sisters, we must fill the hole in our hearts with God, which is to say with Love. Because if it’s not about Love, it’s not about God.
God wants to give us the Kingdom. Here. Now. Are we ready?
In the name of God, father, son and Holy Spirit, AMEN.
[Genesis 15:1-6; Hebrews
11:1-3, 8-16; Luke 12:32-40]
The Rev. Deacon Bette Kauffman will lead us in Morning Prayer with Communion Sunday, August 7, 2022 10am at Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph.
Luke 9:28b-29 Jesus took with him Peter and John and James, and went up on the mountain to pray. And while he was praying, the appearance of his face changed, and his clothes became dazzling white.
There on the mountain, they see Jesus for who he is. They are so astonished that Peter offers to build dwelling places for Moses, Elijah, and Jesus. That is when a voice thunders out of the cloud, “This is my Son. Listen to him.”
Listen to him! What does he say? What happens when we, too, are transfigured by the presence of Christ? With Peter, James, and John, we come down the mountain and back amid the crowds; we roll up our sleeves and feed the hungry, clothe the naked, and comfort the sick. We help transfigure the world.
Service schedule for Christ Episcopal:
Sunday, Morning Prayer July 17th, 10am led by Mrs. Jane Barnett
Wednesday, TBD: The Rev. Donald Smith tested positive for covid, therefore, plans are underway
“Choose Love”
Let me tell you about my friend John.
John was a paraplegic. He and his partner Roger had both contracted HIV some years back. Roger died; John survived, but an opportunistic infection left him paralyzed from the waist down.
I was introduced to John by a member of St. Andrew’s in Mer Rouge, who had met John through GoCare—a non-profit that provides comprehensive medical care to low income, marginalized folks, especially LGBT folks. He had been ministering to John for some time but was moving to NOLA. Would I take over taking communion to John? he asked me.
John lived in rural
John was a very thin man but boney man. Through the years, he struggled constantly with the kind of pressure wounds people get when they spend all of their time sitting or lying down. It was as if he just couldn’t keep enough flesh between his bones and his skin.
So John had surgery, over and over again, to try to graft skin of flesh in a ways that would enable his wounds to heal. And sure enough, one day I got a joyful message from him: “I am wound free!” But that lasted about a month, and then new wounds, a new round of surgeries.
After surgery, again being confined to flat on his back in bed, John occasionally developed pneumonia. He’d be on a vent; it didn’t look good. How can his body keep on fighting? But he did. And he’d recover.
John and his family were basically unchurched, but John had been baptized and wanted to be confirmed. He wanted his mother to be baptized, and when Johns set his mind to something, he could make it happen. and did, at the St. Alban’s Easter Vigil probably 5 or 6 years ago.
I never saw John grumpy, bitter, or feeling sorry for himself. He might sound a bit discouraged, but just me showing up with communion and he’d be over the hump.
This coming Tuesday, I will officiate John’s funeral. I had not seen John for a couple of years, due in part because he had sort of dropped off social media—how we communicated—and then the pandemic. But I learned from his mother via FB that he had had yet another surgery. At first he improved, and then he took a turn for the worse. I got to the Glenwood ICU in time to read a Psalm and say prayers.
He did not open his eyes, but I have to believe at some level he knew I was there. And this time, his body just couldn’t pull him through. Less than 48 hours later, John died.
John had a sweet, indomitable spirit. So many times I would head out into rural La. west and south of West Monroe feeling overwhelmed by all I had to do, somewhat annoyed by this drive into the countryside I didn’t have time for—only to be leave John’s side after an hour or so… restored, grateful… rejoicing.
In today’s gospel lesson,
Jesus sends the seventy ahead two by two to heal the sick and proclaim the
That’s the point I want to focus on today: They return rejoicing.
You have perhaps experienced this phenomenon. You have perhaps heard others talk about their experience. We go to minister and we are ministered to.
But this phenomenon is not merely the joy of a job well done. It’s not merely the good feeling we get when those we minister to are grateful. Or that glow of virtue we get from having done a good deed. There’s something deeper than all of that going on.
The people Jesus sent out were ordinary folks, probably what we would consider working class—literally laborers. We know that because those are the kind of folks who followed Jesus: fishermen, carpenters and such. They most assuredly were not religious leaders—pharisees, sadducees, priests and such—because those folks spent their time arguing with Jesus and plotting against him, NOT following him.
These ordinary folks lived in a terrible time, a time of oppression by a brutal foreign power, a time of local corruption and food insecurity. Life was fragile.
And Jesus warned them that it would not be easy. Some would reject them. They were like sheep going among wolves.
But these ordinary folks went as sent by Jesus, and they were changed by their acts of mercy. They came back rejoicing, exulting in what they had been able to accomplish—which clearly exceeded their fondest hopes and expectations. You can hear the glee in Jesus’ voice as he greets them, proclaiming that he had seen Satan fall from heaven like a flash of lightening.
Jesus also explains to them that he had given them power over enemies, but then he cautions: don’t rejoice over the power; rejoice that your name is written in heaven.
Here’s what I think all
this means: Our actions are not what brings about the
Here’s how Mother Teresa
of
Today we are sent into a world full of “wolves” of war, violence, greed, and conflict over scarce resources—like food and water—due not only to war and greed but climate change accelerated by our own behavior.
Today’s primary disease is no longer leprosy or tuberculosis, but possibly the utter loss of hope that comes from feeling unwanted, uncared for, abandoned by everyone and unable to make a difference in one’s own life, much less the world.
It is hard to have hope in today’s world. Yet we are sent, and as we go, I think we will find that hope is like love: It’s not something we have that enables us to act, it’s something that we create by acting.
Moreover, love and hope are contagious. Our acting transforms not only us, but those around us. Our hopeful act, our loving act make us more hopeful and loving, and those around us start acting in a more loving and hopeful way.
In sum, love and hope are not feelings we have so much as choices we make. And by making and acting on those choices, we are transformed into loving, hope-filled people.
In the name of God, Father, Son & Holy Spirit, AMEN.
[2 Kings 5:1-14; Galatians 6:1-16; Luke 10:1-11,26-20]
The following services are scheduled for Christ Episcopal, Saint Joseph:
Wednesday, June 15 Holy Eucharist with The Rev. Don Smith, 5pm
Sunday, June 19 Morning Prayer with Mrs. Jane Barnett, 10am
