So... Who's next?

The Big Story of the Past Week is how two of the main television networks just shut down two late-night comedians for doing their craft... Stephen Colbert and Jimmy Kimmel. There is a video going around of a speech by John Stewart at the Kennedy Center reminding us that comedians are the "banana peel in the coal mine" (a wonderful image!), and that those in power are particularly sensitive to being made fun of. More precisely, tyrants hate being laughed at.

So, in addition, to suggesting that now might be a very good time to revisit and watch closely the film (and play) "Cabaret," and doing all we can to support and hold up not just free expression in the arts, but also holding up it's sibling, a free and unfettered press. 

We in the work of ministry, both lay and ordained, ought to be particularly watchful. Because, make no mistake, we're next. If not next, then we're at least on the list.

It's strangely odd and ironic (not to mention moronic), that the folks cheering on the powers that shut down both Kimmel and Colbert, are often in their way super-duper religious, and not so long ago they were cheering on a movie about a pastor and theologian, Dieterich Bonhoeffer, who was not only jailed, but later executed, for talking back to (and organizing against) the German fascist regime under Adolf Hitler. But their take on Bonhoeffer is deeply flawed and distorted, because for Matraxias (and his gang of a-historical preachers) to make this work outside the cinema, they have to make the actual tyrant into the good-guy, and  make the culture into the tyrant. Sure, mentioning this might strain Godwin's Law to the breaking point, but it is nonetheless true.

So, if it's comedians today will it be clerics tomorrow?

I'm not trying to be dramatic here. I mean, I am sure that last January 20th, the President would have happily taken over and shut down the Cathedral Church of St. Peter and St. Paul in Washington, DC (aka the "National Cathedral") because the Episcopal Bishop of Washington spoke of the need for mercy and her prayer that the newly inaugurated president would exercise that cardinal virtue in his administration. 

His reaction? He said, "It was boring." Yeah, right. Sure. He always says that when the critique has hit home, except that instead of yawning theatrically during the sermon, he gets mad and stewed about it. Just replay the video and look at the people sitting around the president, who were watching him carefully, weighing his reactions as frightened children do around an abusive parent. Because the problem is that when El Jeffe gets mad, he gets even, and he will not be happy until his opponents are both humiliated and annihilated.

Just look at the recent cabinet meeting when (and not for the first time) each member of the cabinet took turns praising the president for his wit, wisdom, intelligence, and vision. No honest assessments here, and the only bad news for this crew will be whatever the boss wants to hear.

Which brings me back to my question... who's next?

Pastor Martin Niemöller's poem, "First They Came," comes to mind, and if you haven't already thought of it or don't know it, take a moment and read it here. 

The bottom line is that when the networks have been cowed, the comics silenced, the press shackled, and those in power even down to the most local level have all lined up in obedience, who will speak about ethics, morals, justice, and who will speak for the powerless, the imprisoned, and the silenced? 

Sure, there are plenty of clerics who are thrilled that voices that offend them (or make fun of them) are knocked off the air. But that's only biblical, just look at the all the court prophets who sidled up to the kings of Israel and Judah, while the biblical prophets were put to death or chased into the deserts. As someone once said, "they have their reward." 

We know when it will happen: when denominations are held hostage, threatened, and taken to to court for doing what faithful people do, then we'll know.

It's already been tried here and there on the micro level. Like the recent wrangle between a Christ Episcopal parish in Tom's River, New Jersey, when the local mayor tried to use eminent domain to take over the church's property because he did not want the feeding and sheltering of the homeless which would mess up his plans for an expanded park in his beach front town. He apparently wanted the church property used for pickleball. His plan didn't work, but it's a hint at things to come.

It looks like it's only a matter of time before the current administration tries to use to the power of government to regulate, reign in, and control religious expression. It probably won't happen quickly, but there will be indicators along the way. 

We'll know by the clerics who are invited into the White House and those who are not. That's already happened.

But soon it will spread in other more subtle ways. When the government starts handing money to religious service groups that they agree with, instead of ones that are simply neutral-- or who speak out against things the government might do or say. 

Or when denominations are black-balled or punished because their preachers or conventions say things they don't like or go places they don't want them to go. 

Or when the government picks and chooses for churches what ethical and moral issues they may (or may not speak to), and pressures them into how they may act on it (as when, in some states, clerics could go to jail for officiating at inter-racial marriages). 

There are plenty of examples all through history, including our own, of faith communities and their leaders jailed, run out of down, and executed for going against the prevailing faith of the moment. It's not out of the question. 

And to tell you the truth, my own denomination and it's English forebears have been down that path. My own denomination does, after all, come from a state church tradition. And our forbears have both been jailed by their religious enemies, working in cahoots-- heck! who were the government! (Remember Oliver Cromwell, as well as the New England Puritans?) My tradition also participated with the government in religious coercion (think the so-called Indian Schools in both the US and Canada run by Episcopalians and Anglicans). So we don't come to this debate either cleanly or naively.

Which bring us back to the question: if it's comics today, who's next? Artists? Musicians? Writers? Scientists? Journalists? If that's the case, then theologians, clerics, and the everyday faithful will not far behind.

Many folks say that religion enjoys a special, even a favored, space in the public square. And some don't like that. Every now and then, we'll go through a cycle where someone grouses about the tax-exemption for houses of worship and their ministries. Churches, synagogues, mosques, of all stripes and varieties can be (if they do the paperwork... it's not automatic... and mileage varies by state and municipality) tax-exempt along with charities, private schools and universities, not-for-profit hospitals, and so on. 

Despite the claim that this is an unconstitutional favoring of government towards religion, if you look closely, it's not really. The people who don't like this set up forget that the point of the charitable tax-exemption is that these institutions--both religious and secular-- do a civic good that government cannot or should not do. 

At the same time, the critics have a point, but only if the exemption went only to particular traditions or denominations leaving the rest out. But every religious group can benefit from this if they choose... which is why some unscrupulous folks sell mail order ordinations and set up religious-looking groups as they try to rake in the dough without either oversight or taxation in their desire to cash in.  

[Hey, look, I live in Clearwater, Florida, where L. Ron Hubbard set up shop, so I know how this can play out in the extreme! Keep in mind that one of the first signs of a religious charlatan is that they deliberately avoid interacting with other faith groups except when they want to cherry-pick members. They want all the perks and none of the accountability. Our local group ain't the first to play this game, but they do it on a grand scale! But I digress.]

Anyway, that's the risk you take when you treat everyone the same. Most of the folks claiming the various religious exemptions are sincere and ethical. Some are not, which gives the rest of us a bad name. But as, Uncle Ben said to Peter Parker, with great power comes great responsibility. Religious groups who claim the exemption have the responsibility to use that privilege to do social and civic good. 

One of those responsibilities means promoting civil conversations about public ethics. The government doesn't tell us what to believe, how to worship, how we organize ourselves, and whom we select as our ministers, precisely so that we can be free to talk about morals, ethics, justice, and meaning freely and without coercion.

The rub comes when people in power do things that are immoral, unethical, unjust, and coerce others into either cooperation or silence. If the government starts doing that, who will speak up? If not the faith community, then who? Naturally, there are journalists, activists, scholars, citizens, and even (occasionally) politicians. But the faith community, no matter their tradition or beliefs (even non-theistic faiths) have a particular skill set  in ethics (or they ought to!) so they have an important role in freely and firmly speaking on these issues in the public square. 

Yeah, but, I hear you say, religious groups don't not always agree... to which I say, that's kinda the point!

So when certain things happen, especially when the pace picks up, we need to pay attention.

It was not an accident the day that President Trump decided to use the power of the military and police to clear a crowd and march across the street to St. John's Episcopal Church, Lafayette Square. [Also see here.] 

Nor is it an accident that he sells Bibles interwoven with civic documents and embossed with his signature. 

And it is not happenstance when he gathers ministers and evangelists (most of whom have a television, broadcast, and internet presence) to gather around him in a show of prayer. 

Or when he goes to the Museum of the Bible and declares that the government ought to "encourage" an hour of prayer per week. Which begs the question, would that 'encouragement' look like and who would design, promulgate, and enforce it?

Then, to top it all off,  there is his strange image of Trump dressed as a Bishop on an official White House web site. He said he was only joking. As Pope Leo pointed out, he is sending a message.

The message is as clear as the recent cancelling of Stephen Colbert and Jimmy Kimmel, and the taking over of the Kennedy Center. He was crystal clear during the cabinet meeting where the time was spent lavishing praise on the President. He showed his hand in his reaction to Bishop Marianne Budde's sermon at the National Cathedral on Inauguration Day. It's very clear that as far as the White House is concerned, the only messages that should come from stages, screens, and pulpits are ones approved by the Administration... and these must always compliment the president.

Imagine! Imagine when the power of government is used to regulate what is preached, taught, and worshipped in your local congregation. Sooner or later, someone will decide that the price for the privilege of being a charity, a school, a university, or a faith community will be constant and consistent fealty to The Leader. 

In this kind of world, the cost of disobedience won't just be taxation... it will be regulation. And regulation requires monitoring. And monitoring means the end of the trust that is the heart of a healthy civic life. 

The question is: who's next?

Looking Evil in the Eye Again!

Updated March 3, 2025 from an earlier post and column published on May 17, 2022

Don’t you wish sometimes that you could just gather up all the evil in the world and just dump it into a rocket-ship and fire it into the sun or something? I don’t know about you, but this has (again!) been one of those weeks for me.

In Luke 8:26-39, we see what Jesus did for a man who was possessed by demons and it sure seems like Jesus bundled up all that evil and sent it away… into a herd of swine that ran headlong into the water to drown! After yet another mass shooting, this time at a supermarket in Buffalo, New York, where the gunman chose violence after reading fear-filled screeds on-line and elsewhere filled his writing and conversation with all kinds of hateful language and the bizarre idea that “white culture” is being “replaced” by immigrants and people of color.

I don’t know about you, but I sure would like to send all this evil far, far away!

We Episcopalian Christians take evil seriously! Every time we baptize someone, the candidates, or their parents and sponsors, have to answer two questions:

“Do you renounce Satan and all the spiritual forces of wickedness that rebel against God?” 

And:

“Do you renounce the evil powers of this world which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?”

And to both questions we respond, both for ourselves and (often) for the person being baptized:

"I will with God's help."

Yes. We Episcopalians do really and truly believe that these evil powers, these demons, are real and that they wreak havoc in our world. Most people scoff at such an idea…or at least whistle as they pass the graveyard… which is fine until a guy who dresses up his anger in political non-sense takes a semi-automatic firearm into a nightclub and shoots over ahundred people, killing forty-nine. Or until a guy who decides to call himself“death to traitors” kills a member of parliament in the UK. Or until a guy stalks and murders a young singer before a concert. Or, as happened last week, an angry, fear-filled coward stakes out a supermarket in a mainly blackneighborhood, dresses himself up in body armor, and then systematically kills ten people. Or when our President and Vice-President decide to trap and humiliate another country's president, Volodymyr Zelenkey, who is seeking help from our nation to deal with the foreign army that invaded his country three years ago... and then laughs it off as "good television." 

When you see all that, then evil becomes very real, doesn’t it?

The spiritual powers that rebel against God and corrupt and destroy the creatures of God show themselves mainly through fear and hatred.  These are not only emotions, but they are a spiritual state. It is very easy to be tempted to confront evil with more evil…to pile on fear in response to fear, to prejudice in response to prejudice, to meet violence with violence.

But if you really want to fight evil and win, Jesus shows us how: we do the things that evil hates!

Jesus does that in Luke's Gospel. When confronted with a madman who screams at and threatens people, who throws himself to the ground and roams among the dead in a cemetery, as if he were a first century version of someone steeped in the dark web. 

But look at what Jesus does: Instead of doing some sort of violence against the man, Jesus confronts the evil… he meets evil, looks it in the eye, names it, and then casts it out!

Look again at Jesus’ dialogue with the man possessed:

Jesus says, “What is your name?” And the man can’t even answer. The demon within him responds, “Legion.” A legion was a Roman military unit, terrifying in its power and the number of heavily armed soldiers who could overrun another army or a country. What possessed this man was not a simple fear, or a hatred of a single thing—the demon that ripped this man’s life apart and separated him from all society was a whole constellation of fears, they manifested in hatred of life itself, and even when the Life of the World invited him to life, he cried out, “DO NOT TORMENT ME!”

People rightly responded in horror and pain to the awful events last week and people had many names for the evil that we witnessed: “terrorist,” “white supremacist,” “self-hater,” “deranged.” The names were Legion, just like the man who dwelt in the tombs in Gerasa way back two thousand years ago confronting Jesus, the incarnate love of God, who stood calmly before the face of evil, looking it in the eye.

Jesus was not distracted by the evil but sees it for what it is…He even dialogues with it. But he stays focused on healing the man possessed instead of playing evil’s deadly game. The demons can’t take it. They flee from the man and away from Jesus and jump into that herd of swine.

What drove these demons out of the man…what made life unbearable for the evil Jesus faced…was the power of Jesus’ love. It was Jesus’ unflinching, realistic, clear-eyed love that made these demons want to take up residence somewhere else. Jesus was doing the things that evil hates!

Which is what Jesus is teaching us during this terrible week: if you want to cast out demons, do the thing that evil hates.

Evil hates justice and thrives on division. Seek reconciliation. 

Evil loves it when we are silent about injustice and marginalize the poor. Speak up and work on behalf of the oppressed and outcast. 

Evil drives us to be selfish and care only for ourselves. Cast out evil with compassion.

Evil wants us to be alone and cut off. Drive evil crazy with your prayer, your trust in God, and your life in Christian community.

Evil flourishes when we hate in God’s name. If you really want to cast out demons, love.

Evil feeds on our resentment and our list of wrongs. Cast out evil. Forgive.

Evil wants us to focus on scarcity. Fight evil. Be generous.

Evil grows when we get caught up in anxiety. Cast out a demon. Let go of needing to control every outcome.

Evil needs violence—in every form, physical and emotional—so fight evil and live peaceably.

Jesus shows us, in his unflinching encounter with a legion of demons and on his journey to the cross, that he had God’s power and God’s authority which allowed him to confront evil on God’s terms. By simply living and doing what he was called to do; by teaching, healing, forgiving, listening, and by welcoming the stranger and being a companion to the outcast he was doing all the things that evil hates…and drove evil crazy in the process! They wanted to run away! When Jesus was crucified, it looked as if evil won. But, in fact, as we see in the resurrection, evil was defeated. Forever!

And we saw it, too.

We saw it in every candle lit, every prayer offered, every first responder who put themselves on the line to care for wounded, injured, and dead. We saw it in every act of love, every grieving person hugged and cared for, every frightened person embraced. Once again, one man chose to do unspeakable evil. And once again, when the chips were down, thousands upon thousands chose to do the good.

I wish we could sweep up all the evil in all the world and sent it off in a rocket-ship, far, far away. But you know what? God beat us to it! Jesus has already defeated evil and put death to flight on the cross and in his resurrection. And when we do as Jesus told the man he healed to return to where we live and “declare how much God is doing for us,” we are demonstrating that no matter how much hate, how much violence, how much cynicism and fear is out there, we have, through our baptisms, the Eucharist and the power of the Holy Spirit in this community, the power cast out evil in wonderful, surprisingly practical ways of compassion, holiness and calm.

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Check out the response by Bishop Sean Rowe, Bishop of Northwest Pennsylvania and Bishop Provisional of Western New York to the mass shooting on Saturday, May 12, 2022 in Buffalo, New York, which is within the Diocese of Western New York.  (The text may be found here.)

To Fight Evil, Do the Things Evil Hates

If you could pick a super-power, any super-power, what would yours be?

I'd want mine to be able to cast out demons!

And my cool super-power would be so awesome that I wouldn’t even need to say or do anything. Demons would see me coming… and “pop…!” Out they’d come!

Wouldn’t that be cool?

That’s what happened to Jesus in today’s Gospel from Mark. Jesus is teaching in the synagogue near Capernaum. Mark says he is not just any run of the mill traveling rabbi but a person who teaches with authority. Jesus grabs your heart as well as your mind and he won’t let go!

So here he is in Capernaum, when suddenly a guy in the crowd jumps up and shouts “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us? I know who you are, the Holy One of God!”

Jesus engages the unclean spirit directly, silencing it and calling it out. And with convulsions and shouting, Jesus drives the unclean spirit out of the man.

And that’s what I want to do!

Imagine being able to spot something we don’t like in someone and just cast it out of them!

The problem, of course, is that we’d always be picking out the evil in the other guy, never in ourselves! We’d be the one who decides who is good and who is bad and who needs cleaning up and who doesn’t, and that’s a pretty terrible temptation, isn’t it?

I think this temptation motivates a lot of super-religious people. You know, like the ones who stand outside military funerals or gay pride events waving signs and shouting hateful, untrue, and disgusting things in God’s name to and about gay and lesbian people. I think this is also the temptation for people who join terror groups, both foreign and domestic, and kill people in the name of God. These folks think they are confronting evil…but in a way where they become evil themselves.

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King said in 1963, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

The lesson we are learning again by watching films like Selma and recalling the long non-violent struggle against state-sponsored racism is that minds—and hearts—were changed when people refused to be goaded into violence by violence but instead did exactly the things that evil cannot stand.

And the message of the film, A Case for Love, which many of us saw last week, was that the love of Jesus shows itself through unselfish love can overcome the political and social divides that we face today. 

So my wish to have a spiritual super-power to cast out demons may sound cool, but I think in the end it would not work. Because whenever we decide to fight evil with evil, evil always wins!

When Jesus encounters the unclean spirit he not on some spiritual search-and-destroy mission. And he is not a Gary Cooper-like lone sheriff who’s come to clean up this town. No. Instead he taught. It was his authority as a teacher that evil could not stand to be with. Jesus was doing the thing that evil hates. And that is the key.

So, if you want to cast out demons, do the thing that evil hates!

Doing the thing that evil hates is taught in Christian community. Just look at Paul’s teaching to the Christians in Corinth. In today’s epistle, Paul addresses a question sent to him about food sacrificed to idols. Corinth was a Greek city and this congregation had within it both Jews and Greeks. There were people raised in the synagogue and people raised in the religious supermarket that was Greek and Roman religion. The popular religions of the area were an array of different gods with a little deity for every possible need, and each cult had its own ritual. The meat that was sacrificed in these temples was not destroyed (as in Jewish temple practice) but turned around and sold in the marketplace.

We read in Acts (15:29) that one of the requirements placed on Gentiles who became Christians (without first becoming Jews) was that they were not to buy, serve or eat meat from animals that had been sacrificed to idols.  Some Christians in Corinth defy this rule and it was creating division. Other Corinthian Christians were unhappy about that, so they went to the apostle Paul to help straighten out this mess.

Now, the Christians who ate idol-meat had a good case. They knew that the little fake deities were nothing compared to the One God made known in Jesus Christ. These Christians knew that because of Christ’s death and resurrection we are freed from all these little godlets. They said that if Jews who follow Christ are freed from their law, so are Gentiles freed from theirs. Paul says that they are right. But being right is not the point. Caring for one another is.

He urges people to refrain from eating if it would be a scandal for others. But he also tells those who stay away from idol-meat to go ahead and eat an idol-burger if they are served one by a Christian who thinks it’s just a burger. Paul says the most important thing is that everyone is to look out for the other person’s conscience.

C.S. Lewis wrote in his little book about demons and their ways called The Screwtape Letters, that if the Church of England (and we) were to follow this rule then the Church would become a “hotbed of charity” that would be make a demon’s work nearly impossible. 

I had to learn the hard way about casting out demons. It meant learning Jesus’ new teaching and authority as well as Paul’s model of liberty tempered by charity. It all started when I was a brand-new priest. From time to time I’d end up at a Roman Catholic Mass…maybe for a friend’s wedding or a funeral or something. And I’d insist on receiving Communion. After all, I know my Episcopal orders were every bit as valid as Roman Catholic ordination. I knew we that believe the same thing about baptism and Eucharist. So I’d step up to receive communion telling myself that I was being a “prophetic witness.”

A wise spiritual director, on hearing me talk about my “courageous witness….” reminded me that the line between being prophetic and being a jerk is pretty fine. And I was being a jerk… because I was putting my brother priests in a terrible spot and causing scandal to my fellow Christians of another tradition who happened to not share my “knowledge.”

This is what Paul meant when he says knowledge puffs up but charity builds up. Maybe I’m right, but evil just loves it when my knowledge becomes another Christian’s scandal. The fact that we Episcopalians welcome all the baptized to receive communion, no matter what flavor Christian they may be, does not mean I get to dictate how other communities do things. It’s sad and painful to be denied communion in churches where we share so much. But there are times when I sit because charity demands it. I sit because it is not about me, it is about we.

So, do you want to cast out demons? Here’s how. Do the thing that evil hates!

Evil hates justice and thrives on division. Seek reconciliation.

Evil drives us to be selfish and care only for ourselves. Cast out evil with compassion.

Evil wants us to be alone and cut off. Drive evil crazy with your prayer, your trust in God, and your life in Christian community.

Evil flourishes when we hate in God’s name. If you really want to cast out demons, love.

Evil feeds on our resentment and our list of wrongs. Cast out evil: forgive.

Evil wants us to focus on scarcity. Fight evil: be generous.

Evil grows when we get caught up in anxiety. Cast out a demon: let go of needing to control every outcome.

Evil needs violence—in every form, physical and emotional—so fight evil and live peaceably.

Jesus shows us, starting with his encounter in the synagogue and ending in his journey to the cross, that he had power and authority. But he always met evil on God’s terms. By simply living and doing what he was called to do; by teaching, healing, and being a companion to the outcast, he did all the things that evil hates…he drove evil crazy! When Jesus was crucified, it looked as if evil won. But, in fact, the resurrection shows us that Christ defeated evil on that very cross. Forever.

We have that power and that authority right now. Through our baptisms, the Eucharist, and the power of the Holy Spirit in this community, everyone in this room has the power to cast out evil in wonderful, loving, and surprisingly practical ways of compassion, holiness, and calm.

It turns out that we all have a super-power that casts out demons!  We defeat evil every time we do the things that evil hates.

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Bulletin for Worship for 4th Sunday after Epiphany, January 28, 2024 at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida.

Here are the Scripture Lessons for the 4th Sunday after Epiphany, January 28, 2024

Here is a video of the Sermon at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida on January 28, 2024.

Here is a video of the Liturgy at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida on January 28, 2024

Met at the point of our greatest need

Zacchaeus had an image problem. His name meant “righteous, pure one,” but no one believed it. He stood barely five feet tall with his shoes off, there’s nothing wrong with being short—and that wasn’t his problem anyway! He was head tax-collector for the Roman in the town of Jericho and this made him both the richest man in town and the least popular. Everyone assumed that he was so rich because he was skimming off the top of what he collected.

When Jesus came to town, nobody would make room for him to see, so he shinnied up a sycamore tree so he could see something more than just the backs of other people's heads, and that's where he was when Jesus spotted him.

"Zacchaeus," Jesus said for all to hear, "get down out of there in a hurry. I'm having dinner tonight at your house!" All of Jericho must have been stunned. I suspect that Zacchaeus was too. It’s a wonder that he didn’t just fall out of the tree in shock!

And he was not the only one stunned and surprised, but probably not in a good way.  If Jesus were running for office and they had attack ads in the first century, you can almost hear the ominous music and the deep bass of the voice over artist saying: “Jesus eats with tax-collectors. Jesus. Wrong on taxes. Wrong for Judea.”

But in fact Jesus knew what he was doing. When Jesus called to Zacchaeus and invited himself to dinner, he shows us just who it is that God is seeking, who God welcomes into the reign of God, and what God wants us to be. Most of all Jesus is invites us to see the world through God’s eyes and shows us God’s over-the-top generosity and grace.

That’s the heart of Jesus’ message in the Gospel of Luke. All through this part of the Gospel, we see Jesus seeking out people who live on the fringes of society and the community of faith. We hear Jesus welcome little children (18:15-17). Then Jesus welcomes a rich man who has followed the law his whole life but can’t let go of his wealth and instead walks away sad (18:18-30). Jesus heals a blind beggar (18:35-43). Finally, in today’s Gospel, Jesus welcomes and eats with a rich scoundrel that no one likes, Zacchaeus . Luke’s Gospel is telling us that if Jesus can welcome into God’s reign children, blind beggars, and scoundrels, then surely he has room for the likes of us.

Now notice something here: Zacchaeus did not change jobs. He apparently did not stop being a tax-collector. When Jesus called another tax-collector named Levi, also known as Matthew, to be an apostle, he dropped everything and followed Jesus. Today’s Gospel reminds us that not everyone who followed Jesus put aside their occupation. Instead, some people put their money and their words together in God’s service. In the Gospels, the followers of Jesus don’t just say “hey, Jesus, thanks! That’s nice.” In the Gospels, the followers of Jesus act! They put their words and actions together.

I have a theory, and that is that while most preachers (including me!) have seen this story solely as a conversion story, I now think of it as a "coming out" story. I have come to think that Zacchaeus was, in fact, as righteous as his name implies, but it took his encounter with Jesus demonstrate that he was really serious about it– and for others to put aside their judgements and see him as the faithful follower he was. When he said that he would return many-fold any money that was fraudulently taken, he was not buying his salvation but declaring his honesty before God, before Jesus, and before a skeptical crowd. It turns out that his generosity reflected the faithfulness and change that was already going on inside of him—if there was no yearning for wholeness and reconciliation, then why would have risked climbing that tree? When Jesus entered his home, he discovers salvation—being made whole by God.

I suspect that Zacchaeus’ journey towards God… was well underway when he got up in that sycamore tree. But it took a while for people—not just Zacchaeus but all the people who knew him, or thought they knew him—to catch on.

Zacchaeus sought Jesus. Jesus sought and affirmed Zacchaeus. And his affirmation of faith and repentance and the salvation that Jesus proclaimed in Zacchaeus’ house made him whole… his inner search and struggle for faith and acceptance met the outward expression of repentance and generosity.

The big take away from today’s Gospel is this: When we seek Jesus, we find that Jesus is seeking us. Jesus meets us precisely where we need to be met, at the point of our greatest need. When we seek Jesus we are allowing him to the most vulnerable part of our selves so that his saving love might heal us. In meeting Jesus, we are changed from the inside out. And when we change we act.

For one thing, as Zacchaeus shows us, our relationship towards our possessions and our things changes. We move from people who uses our stuff to protect us against, or at least distract us from, pain or to compensate for whatever feels short or incomplete or unlovely in our lives.

The other take away is that Jesus’ invitation to this person on the fringe revealed a faithfulness that no one could see because it did not occur to them that people on the fringe even deserve salvation.  

So, there are two lessons going on here that we can all use in our Christian living:

First, faithful people show up in unexpected places. When Jesus met people at the fringes of respectable society, he was calling out and raising up people living as faithfully as they could but who, up until then, were marked as “outsiders” because of their status, their nationality, their way of life, or their occupation. He was telling them that their faith, no matter how outside the norm, makes them whole.

Second, Zacchaeus learned (and then taught us) that everything we have comes from God. Our task is to use what God has given us for God’s purpose. So, as our faith grows, as we learn and do the work of Jesus, we can choose to use our time, our talent, our things, and yes, our money, for God’s purposes.

And what is God’s purpose? That we love God with all our heart, soul, and mind. We love our neighbor. And more than that, that we love one another the way Jesus loves us. With everything we have. Jesus’ love for us is sacrificial and meets us where we are with what we need.

So, are you a student? Use what you have for God’s purpose. Do you have a place to live and food to eat? Use it for God’s purpose. Do you have talent and skill? Use them for God’s purpose. Do you have a profession or a responsibility? Be ethical, competent, and generous…use it for God’s purpose. And what is God’s purpose? The Catechism in our Prayer Book says that our purpose is “To restore all humanity and creation to unity with God and each other in Jesus Christ.” As you orient your stuff to God’s purpose, you will discover how to learn and do the work of Jesus in your everyday living!

That’s what was going on for Zacchaeus. He went looking for Jesus and found Jesus looking for him. Jesus invited himself into Zacchaeus’ home, because Zacchaeus made room in his home and heart for God. 

It’s funny, isn’t it? We might not know how much we’ve changed until we find ourselves out on a limb looking for Jesus looking for us. And when we make room for Jesus, we find that Christ is already at home in us.

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Here is a link to the bulletin for the Twenty-first Sunday after Pentecost  at St. John's Episcopal Church, Clearwater

Here is a link to the Scripture readings.

Here is a link to a video of the sermon.

Here is a link to a video of the liturgy.

Words are worth a thousand pictures

Words are worth a thousand pictures. Today’s Gospel is a great example.

“I have seen the Lord!” With these simple words Mary Magdalene brings news to the other disciples of Jesus that everything is changed.

There are no caveats like “You won’t believe this but…” There is no “I think,” no “maybe,” and apparently no defensiveness or timidity in these words, but awe and excitement: “I have seen the Lord!”

Every day, every week through every liturgy during the next fifty days of Easter we will say it another way. We say “Alleluia! Christ is risen!” And we answer “He is risen indeed. Alleluia!”

But imagine saying this when we aren’t in a church full of people but one of two people who meet in the street. Imagine that you cannot contain yourself. “Alleluia! (or praise the Lord!) Christ is risen!” And the answer is “He is risen indeed” (or “You betcha!") Alleluia! (Praise the Lord!)”

Now imagine yourself walking around a big box store or going to work or going to the home of your friends or family and saying “I have seen the Lord!” Go ahead, try it. “I have seen the Lord!”

Oh! You sound so sure right now, but getting there was tough, wasn’t it? Took a little coaxing, didn’t it?

Mary’s journey was not so easy either. In John’s Gospel we hear only of Mary Magdalene coming to the tomb, not the other women mentioned in the other three Gospels. John tells us in the most detail how it was that she brought the news of the Risen Jesus to the apostles. She was truly a friend and apprentice of Jesus Christ. Tradition gives her the role as a prostitute, but please don’t believe everything read about her especially if you found it in a novel or movie or something. 

This woman was a friend and apprentice of Jesus. And here is how she became the Apostle to the Apostles:

Mary goes to the tomb, John does not say why, perhaps as the other Gospels say to care for the hastily buried body. She finds the tomb and the stone has been rolled away. She does not go in, but runs away. The first time she returns to the disciples, it is out of fear and distress mingled with grief. Here words are not assured but distressed: “They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we do not know where they have laid him.”

When Mary Magdalene sees the empty tomb the first time, she assumes that the grave had been robbed and that the body was stolen.

The apostles were not expecting this news and two of them run to see this for themselves. The Beloved Disciple peeks in, then Peter steps into the tomb; then the Beloved Disciple goes in, as well. Peter knows the body is gone; the Beloved Disciple believes that Jesus is risen, but neither of them know what this means just yet. That is left for Mary Magdalene to discover.

John is telling us in these few sentences some important facts: One, Jesus’ body was not stolen by his followers (they did not expect nor understand the empty tomb); two, Jesus was not resuscitated like Lazarus (notice the burial clothes are left aside in the empty tomb, whereas with Lazarus was raised by Jesus, he came out of the tomb wearing his burial cloths.); and, third, he is not a spiritual being translated directly to heaven. Jesus is raised bodily from the dead, and in this Gospel it is Mary Magdalene who will discover that for the first time.

We also learn that the followers of Jesus were surprised that he was raised from the dead. They did not expect it. Up until now, Jewish ideas of resurrection (which were not universally agreed upon!) assumed a spiritual resurrection not a bodily one.

Because of the experience of these eyewitnesses, the early Christian concept of resurrection was completely different than the theories that came before it.

So it took Mary, not to mention Peter and the other disciples, a little while to wrap their arms around this experience. It was so different than what they expected. Once again, a word is worth a thousand pictures, when Jesus says to her gently “Mary!”

Now, she understands! Her friend and teacher is not dead—he is alive! His body is not stolen—he is right here! The grave is not desecrated—the grave and gate of death is burst open!

“Rabbi!” she says and she hugs him. Jesus tells her to go to the other disciples and tell them that he is going to his Father and our Father, his God and our God. The chasm between all of us and God is healed. The breach of sin has been closed. We are now God’s one, undivided family.

Seeing, and holding and talking to the Risen Jesus changes everything. Mary, this woman who was so tentative, and so weighed with grief, now goes to the disciples, bursts in on them and announces “I have seen the Lord!”

Say it with me: “I have seen the Lord!”

She brought to the empty tomb all her grief, and all her uncertainty and all her doubts and fears. At first, like Peter and the Beloved Disciple, she could only stand outside the tomb and wonder. Then gradually, she—like they—go deeper. But she goes one step further and puts her trust in God power and love and she is transformed. She has moved from a grieving, fearful, tentative person in a bold, direct witness, a person who says out loud with directness and strength “I have seen the Lord!”

Where have you seen the Lord?

Certainly in this community, gathered for worship, for ministry and service, for teaching and learning and in care for one another. Time and again, in beautiful worship, shared meals, quiet moments of prayer and companionship, in good times and in hard times, this gathered people have shown the risen Lord to each other and to the people outside these four walls. We say “we have seen the Lord” with donation received and every article sold for loose change to people in need in our thrift store, when we welcome the addicted into our midst, and when we open our church for study, music, and fellowship. In all we do, we show more than a thousand pictures could ever show that the Lord lives.

We have seen the Lord when we find that our gifts for service are raised up and used in great and wonderfully small ways. We have seen the Lord when we are comforted in our grief, supported in our difficulties and transformed in our learning and growth. We have seen the Lord when our time, treasure, and talent is used in ways that transform lives, in our parish, in our neighborhood and city, and around the world. We have seen the Lord as our creativity is called out, and when we give our hearts to God in prayer.

“I have seen the Lord!”

Mary’s meeting of the Risen Jesus in the empty tomb shows us that whatever happens in our life, there is the Risen Lord! Everything that separates us from God has died on the cross and has been left in the grave. Whatever weighs us down is taken away. Whatever tries to smother hope, is removed forever. Whatever deals death in your life, no longer has final power over you.

In so many great and little ways, at the moments of our deepest need, the wounded, crucified, and risen Jesus meets us exactly where we are, in exactly the way we need. And when we look past our tears and our grief and whatever weighs us down, there he is: Our friend; Our teacher; Our risen Lord and savior, calling us by name.

“I have seen the Lord!”

You see? Words are worth a thousand pictures!  

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Here is a link to the bulletin for Easter Sunday for St. John's Episcopal Church, Clearwater

Here is a link to a video of the sermon.

Here is a link to a video of the Easter liturgy.

When the devil comes a-calling

American folklore has a lot of stories about people contending with the Devil. One story takes places in the border country of New England in the northern reaches of Appalachia, where Massachusetts joins Vermont and New Hampshire. It starts like this:

“Yes, Dan’l Webster’s dead—or, at least, they buried him. But every time there’s a thunderstorm around Marshfield, [Massachusetts,] they say you can hear his rolling voice in the hollows of the sky. And they say that if you go to his grave and speak loud and clear, ‘Dan’l Webster—Dan’l Webster!’ the ground’ll begin to shiver and the trees begin to shake. And after a while you’ll hear a deep voice saying, ‘Neighbor, how stands the Union?’”

The story, The Devil and Daniel Webster, written by Stephen Vincent Benét is about a poor New Hampshire farmer, Mr. Stone, who, after years of barren land, big rocks, and bad luck, remarks, “It’s enough to make a man want to sell his soul to the devil!”     

Soon thereafter, the farmer meets a stranger named Mr. Scratch, the devil himself, who proposes a deal. Long story short, after a number of good harvests, the devil soon comes to get his due, and Mr. Stone calls upon Daniel Webster, famous orator, lawyer, and politician, to defend him.

Of course, as the story goes, Daniel Webster defends Mr. Stone and with his quick wit and oratory power, and saves Mr. Stone’s soul.

There’s another story whose roots are in another part of Appalachia, and it found in Charlie Daniels’ song, The Devil Went Down to Georgia, where a fiddler named Johnny outplays the devil on the fiddle and wins the devil’s golden instrument.

Our literature and music are all full of these stories. They remind us that evil is real. The world is not perfect. Evil wants our souls — our very identities. Evil tempts us to go back on everything, to abandon who we are, to betray all that we love, usually to gain something or save ourselves.

That is part of what is broken about us. We even love imperfectly — we are sometimes willing to sell our souls even for “good” reasons. Often, we are willing to argue that seemingly positive ends justify destructive means. We have a tendency to go back on our principles — especially in extreme situations.

You know, like not having eaten for forty days. Or living in divided times. Or watching a war unfold before in real time.

In the Gospel story today, Jesus contends with the devil, and we’re tempted to think that this tale is just like all the others — one where someone contends with Satan and defeats him.

There are similarities, after all: someone is offered everything from what he immediately needs (food) to world domination and great power, in exchange for Jesus’ going back on everything he is. In an act of desperation, the devil even offers Jesus a chance to put the doubters to rest once and for all by defying gravity in front of scores of worshipers at the temple in Jerusalem. If the ends really do justify the means, the devil certainly gave him an opportunity.

The devil tempts Jesus, in effect saying, “You can do this the hard way, or you can do it the easy way. You don’t have to starve out here. You don’t have to contend with the religious authorities or the Roman empire. They can certainly kill you, and if you anger them enough, they will. And if they kill you, what? You’ll be just another dead Jewish rebel.”

Jesus, of course, resists the devil’s temptations, quoting Scripture right back to him, and gets rid of him. Jesus refuses to sell his soul, metaphorically speaking, and unlike other characters, he doesn’t even have to trick or outperform the devil.

It’s tempting to celebrate Jesus’ victory over temptation here as an end in itself, wishing-- or even believing!-- that we could resist evil as well as Jesus did. We are tempted to think this story is like all the other stories — one to emulate.

But as Daniel Webster and Johnny prove, it’s never been impossible to outsmart or outmaneuver the devil. Oddly enough, we tend to get very proud when we resist temptation, which kind of works in favor of Old Scratch. Still, the devil is always a very defeat-able character. And frequently, the devil comes back for another try after being turned away the first time.        

As Luke tells us in today's Gospel, “He departed from [Jesus] until an opportune time.”

It’s not hard to figure out when that opportune time would be.

It will be that next time when things will get really desperate for Jesus: when he is arrested by the authorities. When that happens, some of the disciples will draw their sword, knives, and clubs to fight the Roman soldiers but Jesus stops them. And defying all expectation, Jesus submits to their authority. 

In the Passion, it looks as if the Evil One has finally got Jesus just where he wants him! Look at the choice he's presented: In the Garden, if Jesus refuses "the cup," as he calls the upcoming ordeal, evil wins. If he goes to the cross and dies, evil wins... or so it thinks!

The choice in the Garden makes the choices presented in the Wilderness seem like a piece of cake! In the Garden, Jesus will refuse the easy ways out but instead go to the cross and die, only to be raised again and in so doing defeat death forever!

While we humans can resist evil on our own, we also have a distinct tendency not to — especially when we’re desperate! We react out of fear when we are threatened, and we refuse to do good to others because of that fear. We think we know how to outsmart, out-talk, and defeat evil, but too often, we don’t, no matter how many times we re-read this story and analyze Jesus’ strategy.

We don’t tell this story of Jesus’ victory over Satan in the wilderness to mourn our own defeat. We tell it because Jesus did so much more than Daniel Webster or guitar Johnny or a lifetime of resisting temptation ever could.

Jesus didn’t just outsmart evil, he defeats evil! In the midst of human failure, Jesus defeats evil once and for all through his incarnation, the cross and resurrection; and in so doing, he set us free from the claim that death has on us. 

Jesus’ story is different than ol' Dan'l Webster, because it doesn’t matter how often you defeat the devil, you are still bound to die. And even if, like Daniel Webster, you can out-debate  Satan himself and become a legend — you can even be the most moral person who ever lived, in the end they’ll still bury you just like everyone else.

This is why Jesus’ story is different. On the night he was betrayed, while humanity stood outside giving in to evil and to fear, Christ gave himself for us in his death on the cross, and in that death, he not only outsmarted the devil, he defeated evil and death once and for all. Jesus was raised from death and is alive now so that we would not, no matter how many times we outsmarted the devil, be forever buried, with only fiddles and thunderstorms by which to remember us. We resist evil and do good not to become legends or win back our souls, but because Christ resisted evil first.

So, we continue in the journey of Lent, following after Jesus, knowing that while our Lenten disciplines and our outsmarting of evil for a time may make us feel a little safer, even a little virtuous, it is Christ, not we and our penitence, doing the real work… and through the grace of the Holy Spirit, our Lenten journey joins with Christ’s work. 

We start our Lenten journey recalling Jesus' temptation in the wilderness because it isn’t just another story of the devil’s defeat in a divine debate. No, we start here because this is our story of redemption, and example to us about how we might daily put aside temptation, defeat sin, and live resurrected life, which is our chief sign that evil has been defeated. The difference is that instead of resisting temptation solely to defeat the Evil One, our resistance is now, through our faith and baptisms, a positive act of aligning ourselves with Christ.

We know that today, defeating evil is more challenging and more important than ever. The invasion of Ukraine is just the latest and most extreme example that evil, human greed and arrogance, human lust for power, believes it can win because evil is the under the illusion that goodness is weak, that ethics is for chumps, and that love is mushy. 

Evil is always surprised when good people, loving people, and people of character stands up to it. Evil is always astonished and even offended when it is held to account. Evil people always justify their actions as if they are in the service of a greater good. And the temptations that Jesus’ faces are the same the temptations we face whenever evil attempts to manipulate us into the convenient, the comfortable, the simple solutions to intractable or complex issues.

Evil, though, is a sore loser and has an inflated sense of self-importance. It can't take "no" for an answer, and assumes every defeat or set-back is someone else's fault. 

Putin and his crew apparently believed that they’d be welcomed into Ukraine with open arms and cheering crowds, and that their own citizens would rise up in patriotic fervor. Well, they did but not in the way the Russian leaders expected. They resist, they fight, they pray, and even the refugees show a singular courage. And even back home have come out to protest. So, in their astonishment, they have resorted to making dissent illegal because that's better, to them, than real accountability.

What’s true in geo-politics is true in real life.  Whether the evil is global or personal, when we give in to it, we don’t want to hear the objections, we cannot hear about the evil, hurtful, unethical aspects of our choices, and often, we’ll pass off the critique as “their issue,” not mine; or their “naivete” as opposed to our self-made wisdom. 

Notice the connection between these behaviors and the temptations facing Jesus: in each case Jesus is tempted to make it about himself, about me, about what is right for me!

His response is always to turn it back to God, and—in a surprising turn—towards God’s care for all of humanity and creation. By making our concern bigger than us, by directing it outward, we start finding practical, useful ways to defeat evil by living in love. When we walk the way of Jesus-- when we live sacramentally, make loving our neighbor the center of our ethics-- we aren’t running away from evil, we join with him in evil’s final defeat.

The story of The Devil and Daniel Webster ends, “They say that whenever the devil comes near Marshfield, even now, he gives it a wide berth. And he hasn’t been seen in the state of New Hampshire from that day to this.”

Because of Christ, evil gives us a wide berth. Because has Christ defeated it already.

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Here is a link to the bulletin for the First Sunday in Lent, Year C, March 6, 2022.

Here is a link to a video of the liturgy at St. John's Episcopal Church, Clearwater

Here is a link to a video of the sermon.