Sermon for the Episcopal Church of St John the Baptist, Capitola,
given by Rev. Steve Ellis/October 21, 2007
The Episcopal Church of Saint John the Baptist welcomes all to worship God and to share
Christ's love in the world. We are a parish family committed to provide liturgy, Bible study, music, counseling, and Christian education for children, youth, and adults, and to equip all our members for life and for service to other
2 Timothy 1:1-14: Paul, an apostle of Christ Jesus by the will of God, for the sake of the promise of life that is in Christ Jesus,
To Timothy, my beloved child:
Grace, mercy, and peace from God the Father and Christ Jesus our Lord.
I am grateful to God-- whom I worship with a clear conscience, as my ancestors did-- when I remember you constantly in my prayers night and day. Recalling your tears, I long to see you so that I may be filled with joy. I am reminded of your sincere faith, a faith that lived first in your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am sure, lives in you. For this reason I remind you to rekindle the gift of God that is within you through the laying on of my hands; for God did not give us a spirit of cowardice, but rather a spirit of power and of love and of self-discipline.
Do not be ashamed, then, of the testimony about our Lord or of me his prisoner, but join with me in suffering for the gospel, relying on the power of God, who saved us and called us with a holy calling, not according to our works but according to his own purpose and grace. This grace was given to us in Christ Jesus before the ages began, but it has now been revealed through the appearing of our Savior Christ Jesus, who abolished death and brought life and immortality to light through the gospel. For this gospel I was appointed a herald and an apostle and a teacher, and for this reason I suffer as I do. But I am not ashamed, for I know the one in whom I have put my trust, and I am sure that he is able to guard until that day what I have entrusted to him. Hold to the standard of sound teaching that you have heard from me, in the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Guard the good treasure entrusted to you, with the help of the Holy Spirit living in us.
Luke 17:5-10 The apostles said to the Lord, "Increase our faith!" The Lord replied, "If you had faith the size of a mustard seed, you could say to this mulberry tree, `Be uprooted and planted in the sea,' and it would obey you.
"Who among you would say to your slave who has just come in from plowing or tending sheep in the field, `Come here at once and take your place at the table'? Would you not rather say to him, `Prepare supper for me, put on your apron and serve me while I eat and drink; later you may eat and drink'? Do you thank the slave for doing what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were ordered to do, say, `We are worthless slaves; we have done only what we ought to have done!'
Optional parts of the readings are set off in square brackets. The Bible texts of the Old Testament, Epistle and Gospel lessons are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Church of Christ in the USA, and used by permission.
Sermon
Was that a slap in the face? What an stunning gospel! I mean, I like the part about mustard seeds, that if I have only a little faith it can accomplish whatever needs doing. If I only put my trust in God and live that way (that is the only faith that matters), then God will act in such ways as change the world. I like that part. But what is this unfortunate parable about calling ourselves worthless slaves? Do all you should and then don’t expect praise, just realize you’ve done what you should, an unprofitable servant. And I don’t know whether that would have sounded different in that world than this. What if it read, “Consider yourself a replaceable employee.” Expendable, downsizeable, an indifferent cog to the management. But I don’t think that is the point.
Of course, Jesus doesn’t mind offending if it will sort us out. But, it isn’t that we are worthless. Its that it doesn’t matter so much what we are as what the kingdom is. When we forget about ourselves and concentrate on the things that matter, we are full of God, inspired, enthusiastic, and a blessing. And that when we are self-focused, feeling unappreciated, guarding our energy or our wealth or our time jealously, there’s no room in us for the Kingdom. Getting the focus off ourselves is not a tedious spiritual duty. It is the invitation to freedom. Trusting God is not a demotion to infancy, but courage and hope in action.
Fear, anger, self-pity are big trouble. They bring about injustice, war, and cold closed hearts bent on scratching out some amusement or escape, and often a sense of doom or desperation. They stand in the way of generosity, courage, justice, caring, forgiveness, the common good. They make us so self-absorbed we don’t leave things better than we found them, but grasp all we can. The lead us beside raging waters and leave our souls empty. And all we have to do to descend into darkness is drift with our culture into fear, into anger, into self-pity, burdened by all we own, or by all we wish we owned.
We need to learn to travel light. We carry around burdens of worry and care. We get furious when we disagree with someone we can’t control. But God is at work in the world, and instead of worry and anger we can live in wonder and love. Look to the saints to lead us.
St. Paul is in prison. His crime is teaching a love that challenges the social order of the Roman empire by treating every human being as a child of God, whether man or woman, slave or free, regardless of racial, ethnic or religious origin. He is in jail for love, and he has every right to be full of self-pity, to feel noble and martyred. But this is exactly what Jesus set him free from. He is full of the gospel. Full of joy. Encouraging the young pastors in his charge to exemplify the gospel, to live with courage, tell boldly of the love of God, to work with him for the relief of those in time of famine. His mustard seed is intact. He is only doing what he has been told to do, and it is all the reward he needs, he is so glad to be loved by God, so glad to serve the gracious Creator of all.
St. Francis of Assisi is known for his gentleness, but it is not such a simple story. He was the well-educated, very spoiled son of an up-and-coming cloth merchant, in trouble and making trouble, being rescued by his father’s money. He went off to war to win glory, but was taken seriously ill, and, as often happens in close brushed with disaster, he had an awakening. It unfolded, and kept unfolding throughout his life. He had a vision of the crucified Christ speaking to him. Jesus asked him to restore his church which was falling into ruins. He began to restore several churches, and to nurse lepers. This led to a great deal of ridicult from his friends and fury from his father. But Francis renounced his station in life – you know the famous story of his walking away from his family’s aspirations and inheritance – he stripped off his fine clothes before his father and left the house naked. He began to dress in the simplest robe, to beg for his food and to dedicate himself to prayer. Over time, others began to join him in his extremely focused life, in his dedication to “lady poverty” the very opposite of the materialism that had strangled his spirit as a youth, and in his dedication to the poor.
As he gained followers he assigned them a task no one else was doing, preaching the love of God, fervently, to all who would listen. This would not be revolutionary except that few clergy of the day actually lived in their parishes, few preached or did pastoral duties, but simply hired uneducated priests to handle services and went away on their own or Vatican assignments. The clergy of the day enforced the rules of Rome as a given structure, an institution that mediated God’s grace, and not as an invitation to experience the love of God in action and in community and in love.
Francis and his brothers, dedicated to poverty, making little of themselves and much of God, were full of joy, and when they exhorted people to care more about those in need and think less about wealth and merriment, an awakening ensued. Many people, both poor and especially middle class, flocked to hear them, were moved by them, supported them in their work, and some became brothers, and soon sisters, as Francis’ friend, Claire, founded a sister order. These were people who were grateful to forget their obsession with themselves, their material fears. They were inspired to see the Franciscans delight in nature, in things anybody could enjoy, the beauty of the day, the animals, the love of fellow human beings, the goodness of God.
The more my emotional focus and use of time and energy is about my unworthiness, or my worthiness, the worse. Because then I’m full of me, instead of marveling at that power, that mystery, that joy, and putting myself at its service. God wants the best for the human race, one person at a time and all of us together. God needs me to be full of faith. To have my mustard seed, and concentrate on that. If I can live in expectation, if I can trust that God will act, if I can put my effort right there, day after day, God will bring wonders into the world. Through me. If only I can keep my eye on the little faith I have, instead of my big worries and fears.
St. Paul worked hard for the relief of the churches in the Holy Land in a time of great famine, something like the Millennium Development Goals today or our project for relief in Sudan. St. Francis worked at something very like the Homeless Resource Centers in Santa Cruz in his work with lepers and the poor. They both spread the awareness of God as the center, the one to trust, the one to watch, the one to follow, keeping that mustard seed in our vision, small that it might be. Somehow the balance works out better that way that starting with ourselves.
You don’t have to take my word for it. You don’t have to believe Luke or Jesus or Paul or Francis. But if you get to feeling fearful, or chronically angry, or sorry for yourself, you might try for yourself this invitation to freedom. The smallest seed of faith, acted upon, will so fill you with the love of God, and engage you in service to others that the fear, anger and resentment will begin to wash away.
