Leaving Our Bubble

Maybe Paul should have just stayed home.

We read in Acts today that Paul has gone to Athens, the center of intellectual and religious life in Greece, and, for that matter, in the whole Roman world. And he has gone to a place called the Areopagus. The Areopagus is not Big Bird’s imaginary friend. It was the place where Greeks both worshipped their pantheon…their line-up of gods. Both the Romans and the Greeks had a deity for every purpose…rain, war, fertility, you name it. To hedge their bets, they set up a temple to the god they had not yet discovered, the one that covered some reality that had not yet occurred to them. So, this temple was dedicated to the unknown god.

But even though Mars Hill was a kind of open-air religious market, Paul may as well have come from another planet!  Paul was a Jew—a Hellenized, cosmopolitan Jew, trained in both Greek philosophy and Hebrew tradition, so all in all he was a pretty sophisticated guy by their way of thinking, but he was still a Jew, so he was not quite one of them, either. To them, Paul pretty weird because he followed one and only one God. Not his favorite god. The One God. And like all Jews he and did not pray to any of the others, calling them idols. They also avoided meat sacrificed to those idols.

The average Greek or Roman would have considered Paul at best strange and at worst a crazed zealot who has come in from the hinterlands. For them, believing in only one God was both foolhardy and sacrilegious. To make matters worse, Paul, like all Jewish males, was circumcised which was considered both gross and barbaric. He only ate certain foods which also revealed a strange narrow-mindedness. 

On top of that, Paul was one of those people called Christians who believed that God not only became human but that he died and rose again. He believed that everyone would experience resurrection someday. When they accused Paul of practicing a strange religion, they meant it!

Now Paul had some choices about how he was going to react to this strange environment. He could have gone into Idol Central and start trashing the place. Tearing down false idols might have seemed like a good idea, it certainly would have attracted attention!  But he didn’t go there. 

He could have just gone along to get along...taken up the ways and attitudes of the Greeks and Romans. Some of the folks back home in Jerusalem accused him of doing just that, especially because he did not require male Greek and Roman (ie Gentile) converts to Christianity to be circumcised if they didn’t want to, and he had a “to each his own” attitude towards whether Christians could eat meat that had been sacrificed to idols before going to market.

Another choice would have been to just hang out with people who agree with you, or worship like you. Which happened a lot: in many cities right up to our own day, people who think and worship alike often end up living in the same neighborhoods, or hang around the same pubs, or only ‘friend’ each other on social media.

Instead, Paul chose to leave his bubble and respectfully engage folks who were different. He decided to tell them about Jesus of Nazareth, the Messiah who lived and died and rose again. He talked about how God was at work through Christ and wanted a relationship with everyone.

We can learn something from Paul’s decision to leave his bubble.

First, all of us—each and every one of us—communicates the Gospel. Like it or not, once someone figures out that you are a Christian and that you take your religion even a little bit seriously, then you are communicating the Gospel. You don’t have to wear a white shirt and a black tie and ring doorbells. And you don’t need to wear a clerical collar. Every day we all communicate the Gospel.

But that’s okay, because as Paul noticed about the Athenians, everyone is on a search for God. Know it or not, every one of us seeks meaning and purpose for their living. And when we do that, we are also seeking to fill that God-shaped hole in our hearts. And since that search is not always conscious, it affects our choices and behavior.  So, our quest for intimacy is a quest to be known and loved. Our quest for more stuff is yearning to have our hearts filled. Our quest for recognition reflects a longing to be understood and valued. I could go on, but you get the idea. Just as Paul looked around and saw in all the idols and temples a religious people, we can also look around and see that there a lot of spiritually hungry people.

Today the Areopagus isn’t just on Mars Hill, it’s everywhere. Surveys say that only 17% of Americans go to church, yet 90+% of Americans think of themselves as spiritual. 78% say they pray and three quarters of Americans say they believe in God. So, just as we always communicate the Gospel, there are people all around us who are searching to fill a god-shaped hole in their lives. But unlike Paul, we have lots of tools to reach out to people: radio, tv, print media, the internet, books, events, music and art…the list is long. Marketing is important but what really tells the story, what fills the God-shaped hole is when a person meets another person who is also on a journey of faith. That’s because Jesus shows us that Godself is best shown in relationship.

So, if you find yourself on Mars Hill—which basically happens every day-- remember what made you Christian in the first place. Do you remember what first drew you into the spiritual life? Can you recall what or who first piqued your interest or what first set your heart towards God? Can you name what works and what doesn’t work for you? What animates you? What gives you a sense of spark? What makes us know that we are loved and want to share some of that love? Without a story, we live in a bubble. And if we only huddle with each other in our own little bubbles, we will never grow as a people of faith. And we can’t thrive as God’s people until we learn to leave our bubble.

For Paul to leave his bubble, he also had to listen and look. He started to appreciate what he and the Greeks shared. Paul started from where they were—not from he where he thought they should be-- because he listened. Paul saw that God was present in the world outside his bubble.

It takes courage to step out of the bubble. No one would have blamed Paul if he hung back, or just hung out at the local synagogue. Everyone would have understood. But he chose to engage the people God gave him… and he chose to seek out people to engage.

When you step outside your bubble you will get a variety of responses. Maybe it will be a strange look or a hostile glare. But you might encounter a thank you from a person you’ve cared for, or driven to the hospital, or brought a meal to. You might find that you have helped fill a God-shaped hole because you listened to a person when they were sad, or comforted them when they were alone. Maybe you have communicated the Gospel as you have been present to a person in trouble or as you have taught a child. Maybe they’ve asked you why you did that small act of kindness, and maybe you told them in some small way about God who animates and fills that space in all our hearts. I don’t know. But what I do know is this: we all have the power to be messengers of good news to real people living in God’s hurting world. Whether they ask you why you’re doing it or not, it will help you be the Gospel and live the Gospel when you know the story of how God is continually filling your own God-shaped hole.

And how does God fill that space? God does that by taking you out of your bubble and going with you into the world God loves.

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This is the Bulletin for Worship for Sixth Sunday of Easter, May 10, 2026 at St. Chad's, Tampa, Florida.

Here are the Scripture Lessons for the Sixth Sunday of Easter, Sunday, May 10, 2026.

Learn more about the Diocese of Southwest Florida here.

Something happens when we tell a story

“Once upon a time…” 

“I remember when…” 

“Daddy (Mommy, Grandpa), tell me a story…”

Something happens when we tell a story. It is as if a different part of the brain is activated. We are not just talking about facts; we are painting images in our minds.

Once upon a time, my father had a study with a great big drafting table, and in this study was an old tabletop AM/FM/SW radio about the size of a modern-day microwave oven. My Dad set me up with my own little drafting table, and he would work on these great big drawings of I-don’t-know-what except that I was sure he was drawing plans that would one day land a man on the moon! On Saturdays, when he’d work in the study and I would sit at my little drafting table making my own designs for fantastic machines. Together, we’d listen to a baseball game over that big radio. He taught me keep a box score… a record of every play of a baseball game. You did not need television to ‘see’ a baseball game, just a careful ear, some imagination, and a yellow number two pencil.

Stories are important parts of our lives. They tell us who we are, what is important to us and how we understand ourselves. The stories could be from books or movies or plays or shows, or they could recall something as simple as a picnic, a day at work, or a funny thing that happened at the store.

How many times have you heard a group of people who have all seen the same play in the same ball game tell each other exactly what they saw? They might do it immediately right in the stands or during the commercial or the next day at work. Or how many times have you seen a group of people talk about a really great movie? These are not simply sharing information or confirming that the other person saw what they saw. They are drawing us into their experience.

We might not be sitting around a campfire or standing on a stage, but in everyday life we are all storytellers. And all of today’s scripture readings show us what it means to be God’s storytellers.

We are invited by God to share good news and to tell what we have seen and heard.

In Isaiah, the prophet says that before the servant was born he was called to be one in whom God would be glorified. He is called to be a light, and not only to Israel, but to the whole world I will give you as a light to the nations," God says to the servant, "that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth." This salvation is not just for those who know the story, it's meant for those who have yet to hear it for the first time, wherever they may be.

The Psalm today says, "I have spoken of your faithfulness and your deliverance." And in the epistle, Paul talks of his apostolic calling and "the calling of the Corinthians to give testimony to Christ, to tell of him."

I particularly love today’s Gospel story. Right after John’s great hymn to the Logos, the word of God made flesh and dwelling among us, which we heard on Christmas Day, comes a story of how people first experienced the Logos and then told their story of the Logos to others.

So the “Logos” is not merely some Big Idea, it is something people experience and then talk about.

Look at all people who tell each other that they have seen Jesus and who they think Jesus is. John the Baptist points to Jesus and because of that, John, the Beloved Disciple, and Andrew decide to peel off from following John the Baptist and start to follow Jesus. Then Andrew tells his brother Peter who out of curiosity checks Jesus out and decides to follow him too. Next, in a part of the Gospel we don’t get to hear today, Jesus calls Philip, who then goes and tells his brother Nathaniel, who—while scoffing—also goes to see this Jesus character anyway and, because Jesus knows him and can crack a joke, he decides to follow Jesus too.

Look at all the ways that we, too, are invited to “come and see” and all the ways we can tell what we have seen and heard.

Being invited to “come and see” might satisfy our spiritual curiosity, or it might awaken it. I don’t know about you, but I find my spiritual curiosity awakened as I have started following stories of those Buddhist monks walking across the country in much the same way as I used to follow my favorite ball players when I was a kid.

And my spiritual curiosity is activating my imagination to begin to ask “how come?” and “why?” and “what for?” Why is it that some people are so worried about immigrants, or strangers, or people different that us? How come? Hmmm.

I have had spiritual directors and pastors sit with me and, after having heard my story... which might be a rambling, disjointed rant or a series of anecdotes looking for a common thread... just sit in silence for a long while, as a cat might look at me with eyes half closed and paws tucked under themselves, and eventually ask "What do you make of that?" or the really pesky "Where might God have been in all that?" 

Notice that God doesn’t come to us in a thunderclap or a big heavenly show. Instead Jesus, God’s Own Best Expression of God’s Own Self, is made known by word of mouth, in gospel stories that tickle the imagination and activate our spiritual curiosity.

Fast forward to the end of the first chapter of John, we see Jesus describing the process to Nathaniel. Encountering Jesus… and the people who’ve met and experienced Jesus…is just like what Jacob saw in his vision of angels on a heavenly ladder moving between earth and heaven.

This is how God’s word works: people who have discovered God’s love and learned God’s love then share God’s love. No one knows what God is up to until we go and tell someone.

Human beings are storytellers. We are wired to tell stories because it is how we make meaning out of living. When we tell our Gospel story it becomes a part of us. Sharing how God is in our lives makes us more conscious, more aware of how God is at work in us now.

In the middle of today’s Gospel, Jesus asks the two disciples "What are you looking for?" not "What do you want?" Meeting Jesus is not transactional: this isn’t about what we’ll get if we follow Jesus, It isn’t about getting spiritual goodies and a nice seat in a heavenly house. No! Instead, the heart of the story is relational. They meet Jesus and he meets them!

The Gospel is also not just about information. Anyone today can look on Wikipedia, search on Google, or go to the library and find all the information they want. We don’t lack for information. No, the Gospel is compelling because it tugs our hearts as much as our minds.

Notice that two disciples did not ask Jesus, “what are you doing?” They asked, "Where are you staying?" Yes, the disciples were curious, but what they are looking for is a different kind of information. They are looking for a place to be, a place to rest, a place—a person with whom the can “abide.” And that’s what we are all looking for—often without knowing it—a place to stay, a place to be.

Once upon a time, the poet Kathleen Norris moved to the plains of South Dakota. She was returning to a place where her family had lived and had deep roots. One day, she went to a tavern and had a conversation with an old cowboy, who sought her out because she was from "one of the old families." He wanted to tell her about a side saddle he owned, made by her great grandfather as a wedding present some 150 years before. She tells of how they mused awhile on the subject of their ancestors, when suddenly the old man said, "Who are we and where do we come from?" That's the real question, isn't it? Before Norris could reply, he smiled and said, "And here we are telling each other lies." "Stories!" she said, laughing. "Call them stories!" "Stories!" he nearly shouted back, pounding one hand on the bar. "That's who we are!"

One of the things I have discovered and enjoyed the most in my ministry, both in parishes and as a clinical chaplain, are the variety of stories that people have shared with me. All these Gospel stories, encounters with God in Christ, and all the variety of ways that people live and share that story tell me and the people who’ve lived them and heard them that God is at work in tangible ways in the lives of ordinary folks every day. I’ve heard these Gospel stories in places like this and other congregations, in homes, hospitals, soup kitchens, food banks, and even in jails. Often folks don’t realize that they are telling ‘gospel stories.’ They might not even claim to follow a faith or feel themselves to be far away, or even a refugee from the faith of their upbringing. And yet, with all the complexities, the curveballs, and complications of their lives, they still share stories of hope, strength, purpose, and power and this shows us that Gospel stories come in all shapes and sizes.

Gospel stories are always being written and always unfolding. God is always adding new chapters of grace that precedes us, dwells with us, and leads us home.

Jesus asked Andrew and the Beloved Disciple "What are you looking for?" And then he invites them to “Come and see.” The next thing you know they are telling others that “We have found the Messiah!” In all the things we do, in all the activity, through all our programming, worship, and in all the work of keeping a congregation alive, our Gospel stories are at the heart of it all. It may be that, in the end, the only thing we have to offer is this invitation, these stories of our encounters with Jesus, from which we draw hope, strength, and power. At the end of the day, our job is to invite folks to “come and see” the person of Jesus Christ, and the best way to tell his story—perhaps the only way—is with our lives.

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Scripture for the Second Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A, January 18, 2026

St. Chad's Episcopal Church, Tampa, Florida 

Learn more about the Diocese of Southwest Florida here

Who will go?

A sermon for the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany, Year C

Whenever I hear the reading from Isaiah 6 that we just heard… you know, the one beginning with the phrase “In the year that King Uzziah died…,” I can’t help but think of my ordination liturgy. Because this is one of the Old Testament lessons set aside for the ordinations of priests and it was the one read on the day of my own ordination by my dad in his best Armed Forces Radio / Mercury Theater speaking voice. 

The image is a terrific fit for ordinations, which (like my ordination to the Diaconate) often take place in Cathedrals, or in parish churches in small towns (as was my priestly ordination). Either way, it’s an occasion to haul out the best china, polish the best silver, set out the best linens and put on the very best reception that the parish can muster. And trust me… I’ve been to a lot of these, and they are always impressive feeds!

In Isaiah, the Prophet has a vision where we see the Lord, lofty and uplifted on a throne. In a scene that could been drawn by Alan Rohan Crite himself, the  angels have all opened their hymnals and are singing S124 (by David Hurd), S129 (by Robert Powell), S130 (by Shubert) or maybe my personal favorite, S114 (by Healy Willan).

The earth shakes (I’m sure with thunderous organ music, undergirded with a good 16’ subbass or maybe like the 32' Contra Violone as in the National Cathedral). 

All the while, the room is filled with fragrant smokey incense from which an angel picks up a coal from the thurible… the incense pot… and touches it to lips of the Prophet.

But that only happens after the assembly hears the thunderous voice of God asking which one of them will go out and speak the word of God to the people…. Everyone looks around until someone (only one someone, the Prophet Isaiah) waves their hand with excitement saying “Me! Me! Me!” Or in Bible-talk, “Here I am; send me!”

Now that is what I call a call! 

Well, even in the Bible, not every call is so… high church.

Sometimes Jesus’ call happens where we live and work. Take, for example, Peter and his fisherman companions Andrew, James, and John in today’s Gospel. 

Peter was a hard catch. It is clear that Jesus thought he would be a terrific disciple, but Peter was—up until now—a skeptic. When brother Andrew, who had already been following Jesus’ cousin, John the Baptist, told Peter about having seen the Messiah when he saw and then followed Jesus, Peter’s response was “nah!” Actually, it was “hah!” From Nazareth, you say? Nothing good ever comes from Nazareth! Hah!

So Jesus decides that a demonstration is in order. 

You know the story… heck, we just heard it! Peter—who isn’t Peter yet but is still known by his birth name, Simon, along with James and John are busy fishing. Notice that while they are out hauling nets, Jesus is on the shore… on their shore, no less!... preaching to a large crowd. Simon is throwing net after net and comes up empty and he comes ashore as Jesus is finishing up talking. I’ll bet he was hot, tired, and probably a little grumpy. Jesus turns to Simon and says go put out your boat and let down your nets one more time. Simon protests. While you’ve been yapping to that crowd, we’ve been out here working! Can’t you see that there’s nothing to catch? We’ve worked all night long and… Nothing! Nada! Zip! Zilch! But Peter sees Jesus giving him that “look,” so I imagine Simon sighing a sullen “oh-kay” and heading out again, if for no other reason than to prove this travelling rabbi wrong.

But when Simon throws out his net, it is filled near to bursting with fish! So much so that Simon cries for help from James, John and his other friends. They caught so many fish that they filled two boats!

This got Simon’s attention. He falls to Jesus’ knees in both awe and repentance. Jesus stands Simon up and says to him “You think that was something? You just wait! Soon, you’ll be catching people!”

When the Gospels of Mark and Matthew tell the story of how the first disciples were called, they just say that Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee, saw Peter, Andrew, James, and John, fishing from their boats, called out “Follow me!” and off they went. But Luke’s Gospel, tells us the rest of the story. Hmm. I wonder why?

Well, Luke’s Gospel and his sequel, the Book of Acts, talks over and over again about encounters with Jesus and his followers that changes lives! We are given a picture of a Gospel message so compelling that people literally drop everything and walk in the way of Jesus.

That call, that invitation, might seem a little overwhelming. I mean, there is so much to do. And life is just so busy. We, like those first followers, were tired, overworked, and not a little bit harried. But Jesus invites us, even in our tiredness to “put out into the deep water.” It’s crazy. But, hey, what have we got to lose? 

Now there’s a catch to this catch. If we are hearing this from the standpoint of scarcity – seeing a church that is not quite as full as we wish—or nostalgia, remembering a church that seemed so much more full once upon a time, or if we are a church committee member looking for how to “sell” our product, we might be disappointed. If that’s all we want, chances are the nets will continue to come up empty. Learning and doing the work of Jesus is the work of the church, not simply adding to the Sunday attendance.

Now don’t get me wrong. I have chaired diocesan evangelism commissions in two dioceses, and trained vestries and church members in the proven techniques of adding and incorporating people into parish communities. That being said, I believe that what’s really important is how we communicate the Gospel in all its colorful fullness to everyone everywhere as they are where they are. 

It is the Good News of Jesus that people are hungry for! And that shows up in all kinds of ways: practical, compassionate, and attentive. 

Letting people know and experience the life-changing love of God in Christ takes all kinds of forms. It might be a feeding ministry to the hungriest and poorest of our community. Or visiting the homebound or shut in or those who living out their last days in a nursing home, hospice, or group home. Or having coffee with that grumpy old widower at the corner café. Or bringing the Sacrament to people who are unable to join their sisters and brothers in Sunday worship for reasons of health, family, or work. And it might be in standing up for the people whom society wants to marginalize, blame for all our problems, or just toss aside—even if we wouldn’t normally be caught dead being seen with them, or if they come from the wrong neighborhood or from a faraway country, with our without papers-- and standing with them, standing tall and proud with them-- anyway.

A disciple is a friend and apprentice of Jesus Christ. And being a disciple of Jesus means learning and doing the work of Jesus every day.

Jesus tells his first followers that they will become fishers of people… that’s the goal of discipleship. As baptized people, you have an incredible opportunity to reach out and become fully present about your surroundings. Weatherman Al Roker always says, “Now let’s see what’s happening in your neck of the woods.” God is inviting us to learn and do the work of Jesus, to experience what’s happening in our part of God’s vineyard, our neck of the woods.

But in these harsh and divided times, who will go? 

Who will raise her or his hand and say “me! me! me!” 

Who will be the first to throw out the net? 

You know, it may be that the most important way to say “yes” to God’s invitation and Jesus’ instruction might simply to smile and to look into the eyes of your neighbor. Our Gospel moment may just be a fleeting personal, face to face connection, and not through a screen. That little I-Thou moment may be just what the doctor ordered for the weary soul of a stranger. 

Maybe the next time you are at the grocery store or waiting to be seated at a restaurant, you can communicate the Gospel simply by intentionally smiling or saying hello to that cashier, bagger, server, or someone in your orbit.  It is likely that both of you will be enriched by that activity. You may even connect with someone who will eventually join you in being a fisher of people. There is no special person assigned to this work. We are all up for the task whether we consider ourselves introverts or extroverts.

It sounds simple, but it’s a start. 

Because fishing for people is not about “selling” our Gospel message… it is about giving and showing the love of Jesus and inviting people to share, even for a moment, in the saving, hallowing presence of God. We baptized people are living Sacraments, outward and tangible signs of inward and spiritual grace. Know it or not, we all point to Jesus. 

And just as Jesus called and invited the fisherman to go into deeper water, so we are called and invited to wade in to everyday life and be the face of Christ to those who seek Him, as we look for the face of Christ in the people God gives us every day.

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Scripture for the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany, Year C, February 9, 2025

Website for Episcopal Church of the Good Shepherd, Dunedin, Florida

Here is the bulletin for the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany, C, Feb. 9, 2025 for the Church of the Good Shepherd, Dunedin, Florida.

Here is the livestream of the February 9, 2025 9 a.m. liturgy at Good Shepherd, Dunedin, Florida.

Feeding Jesus and Being Fed

You’ve got to love it! The Crucified, Dead, Buried, and now Risen-from-the-Dead Jesus shows up in front of his friends and followers and what does he do? 

Some great miracle? Nope!

Some great act of power? Nah!

He asks for something to eat. 

It’s as if he came in the door after a long day, plops himself in the recliner and says, “Whew! That crucifixion and resurrection is hard work! What’s for dinner?”

Today’s passage from the Gospel of Luke highlights the physicality of Jesus’ risen self. Jesus shows up in person. He shows the disciples the wounds in his hands, feet, and side. And—I love this—he asks them for something to eat. The Risen Jesus chides the disciples' disbelief. I am not a ghost, he tells them. This is Jesus…not a vision, nor a hallucination, but a real person with a real body. 

Today’s story parallels another story in this same chapter of Luke’s Gospel… Jesus’ encounter with Cleopas and his friend on the road to Emmaus. In both instances, the disciples recognize Jesus as the risen Lord when he ate with them. 

To some of us, maybe, the risen Jesus may be an idea, a story, a symbol, or a memory. But to Jesus’ friends and followers, it was a reunion, a face-to-face encounter, with the same Jesus whom they saw arrested, beaten, executed on the cross… and was demonstrably deader than a doornail! 

But no more!

In these two encounters, Jesus shows that what they are seeing is true by eating with them. Which makes sense, because before his arrest, torture, and execution, this is what Jesus did with them all the time as they went around Palestine teaching and healing. He ate with them. 

And even today, we see him in this most ordinary, tangible way. At the Last Supper and in the Holy Eucharist, Jesus gave us a way of recalling him to our presence and, by eating from his body, to become his body. 

Every day the Risen Jesus shows us that God redeems and makes holy every sphere of our existence: the physical, the rational, and the social elements of our existence are all addressed in Jesus’ resurrection.

The first thing that God redeems and makes holy is the physical world. Our baptism into the church and the promise of resurrection means that we are to value the physical world that God has placed us in and made us part of.

We are to care for the creation and care for our bodies and care for each other, even strangers and people we’ll never meet in person. We are to have environmental concerns and health concerns; the biological and physical sciences are part and parcel of our participation in God’s redemption. We are not to abandon the world we live in, but we are to improve it in whatever small ways we can. 

Another thing that God redeems in the resurrection is the way we know and see the world. Because we encounter the risen Jesus in sacramental living, in prayer, and in the changed lives we both encounter in others and experience ourselves, we discover that God works on every part of our knowing. Rational thinking and faithful being are not polar opposites, always at war, but different ways of knowing the fullness of the creation we live in and care for.

Finally, the physical, risen Jesus redeems our relationships. Christians do not abandon the social world we live in, but we are called to improve it whenever we can, working against evil and promoting justice. The fact that our bodies will be redeemed and raised emphasizes our need to be involved in the world in a positive way. We are not escapists, merely biding time until time ends, but we are involved, letting Christ live in us and grow in us until we are raised with him in glory and we see him as he is and we share in his eternal joy.

In today’s Gospel we find Jesus eating another meal with his disciples. He made eating and drinking together the primary way of experiencing the Resurrection. He uses eating and drinking to teach us and draw us to him. He uses this most universal way people affirm and experience relationships in community. We eat with Jesus. We eat of Jesus. We eat his body, and we become his body. 

Maybe you remember my definition of what a disciple is? A disciple is “a friend and apprentice of Jesus, who learns and does the work of Jesus every day.” So you are all friends and apprentices of Jesus. And you are all learning and doing the work of Jesus.

But lots of people call themselves followers of Jesus... how do you know an actual disciple when you see one?

Well, as the old proverb (that most people get wrong, by the way!) reminds us: "The proof of the pudding is in the eating!"

Clergy and Eucharistic Ministers are the ones who distribute communion, giving bread and saying, “The Body of Christ.” And, if you think about it, we all distribute the Body of Christ in all kinds of ways. 

Imagine when you give a check to the church or a worthwhile charity, placing it in the treasurer’s hand and saying, “The Body of Christ, given for you.” 

Imagine delivering Meals on Wheels or giving a meal to a needy stranger in downtown Clearwater, saying “The Body of Christ, the bread of heaven” when you place the meal in the hands of that homebound senior. 

Imagine visiting a person in prison, extending an encouraging word of love and adding, “The Body of Christ.” 

Imagine teaching the truths of God to a Church school class or in a Bible Study, or prayer group, and concluding by saying, “This is the Body of Christ, given for you.”

Imagine sharing the Word of God in Bible Study, in prayer, daily devotions, or as part of the Daughters of the King, as an act of sharing the Body of Christ.  

Imagine spreading the Good News to those who do not know the Lord, telling others about the joy you find in your faith, and declaring, “Share with me the Body of Christ.”

Imagine being the quiet listening presence to someone who is lonely or in pain, and as you pray with them, recall that we are, as the Apostle Paul wrote to the Christians in Corinth, “Now we are the body of Christ, and individually members of it.”

Jesus rose from the dead, not a ghost, but flesh and blood, in person– his personality, memory, relationships, compassion, and humor intact. Everything he knew is risen and made whole and new and holy. Saint Paul reminds us that when we were baptized, we were all baptized into Jesus’ death and resurrection. So as baptized people, we all share in his resurrection, and every day we show off the risen Jesus to everyone we meet. And God uses everything we are, and everything we have, and all our skills and talents and memory–all of us!-- for God’s purpose: to restore all people to unity with God, creation, and each other. 

So, people of St. John’s, Clearwater, my companion friends and apprentices of Jesus, as we gather around this Eucharistic table, as we dash over to the parish hall for delicious nums-nums, and before I turn in my keys and as you get ready for your next era of ministry in service, remember this: in everything you do as a community and as individuals, feed others in Jesus’ name. 

In so many great and simple ways, we reflect the words of St. Augustine, who wrote: 

You are the Body of Christ. In you and through you the work of the incarnation must go forward. You are to be taken. You are to be blessed, broken, and distributed, that you may be the means of grace and the vehicles of eternal love.

And may God go with you in all you do!

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Bulletin for Worship for the Third Sunday of Easter Sunday, April 14, 2024 at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida.

Here are the Scripture Lessons for Easter 3-B, April 14, 2024

Here is a video of the Sermon at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida for April 14, 2024

Here is a video of the Liturgy at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida on April 14, 2024

"Handle with Care!"

When I was a teenager, after I passed my driver’s test, my Dad finally gave me the keys to his car (an ivory ’66 Corvair with a four-speed!) with the following words “Handle with Care.”

I think that when Jesus handed Peter the keys to the Kingdom, he slapped on the same warning label: “Handle with care.”

In today’s Gospel, we find Jesus is in the closest place in the Holy Land to foreign territory, Caesarea Philippi, on the northern coast of 1^st Century Palestine.

The place was a super-market of foreign religions! It is a place where people who came from all over the Roman Empire, who travelled between Europe, Asia Minor, and Africa, could come and worship, rest, and play in familiar surroundings. Kind of like an American hotel in a faraway city, where you could get a Big American Breakfast just like at home.

The Jewish people in the holy land considered the place to be something like ‘sin city.’ It was a sign of their occupation, filled with foreigners, interlopers, and the base for an invading army. So why did Jesus choose this particular place to quiz his disciples about his Messianic identity? Well, maybe, if you fast forward to the time when Matthew’s Gospel was written, it might make more sense because Caesarea Philippi was also the site of one of the earliest known Christian churches.

It is in this foreign outpost that Jesus asks his disciples “who do people say that the son of man is?” This is more than a straw poll. Yes, knowing what people “out there” think is important. And their answers reveal that people—including his closest disciples-- were still trying to figure out who Jesus is. A prophet? He’s a lot like that John the Baptist fellow... maybe him? Some said that he's Elijah, the forerunner to the Messiah.

But Jesus doesn’t stop there. He asks his friends and apprentices: “who do you say that I am?” Of course, Peter (who still was known as Simon) speaks right up. You can almost see him raising his hand like a student in class “Oh! Oh! I know the answer! Pick me!” And like the smarty pants he is, he gets the answer right. He says, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the Living God.”

Jesus gives him a gold star… and a new name. Simon is now Cephas or Peter or “Rock” and he will be the cornerstone upon which the new church will be built. And he is handed the keys… the keys to the kingdom of heaven. These figurative keys will give the Church the ability to let people into the Kingdom of Heaven or keep people out.

But to paraphrase Spider-Man’s Uncle Ben whose dying words to Peter Parker was… (say it with me now!) “with great power comes great responsibility.”

It takes courage to stand up and confess Jesus as the Messiah and Son of the Living God. To stand up in the most secular of ancient cities in first century Palestine is a taste of what the disciples would be sent to do when the Risen Jesus sends them into all the world, proclaiming, teaching, and baptizing.

The problem with keys is that they are used on locks. We use locks to secure things, to keep them safe. We use locks to keep doors closed. The temptation of holding keys to the Kingdom is that we will tend to focus more on who we want to lock out and than on who we will let in.

It is so easy to put conditions on God’s grace. We have all heard the stories: People who have been refused communion because of their marital status or who they love. People who are excluded from the fellowship of the church, or told to worship in a separate space, because of their race. There are churches who seat men in one place and women in another. There have been people kicked out of churches because their pastor or church leaders didn’t approve of them, they asked pesky questions, or are simply ‘inconvenient.’

There is a big temptation to use this passage as permission to act as God’s chief gatekeeper. Different traditions squabble over who really holds the keys —Rome! Constantinople! Geneva! Canterbury! My Church here but not Yours around the corner! Why? Because we think that the one who holds the keys gets to make the rules.

If you’ve been around our own Episcopal Church even for a short time, you know that we’ve not been immune to the misuse of keys. We have divided up along the lines of worship style, what edition of the Prayer Book we like, whether we think women and LGBT persons or people of color ought to be deacons, priests, bishops or even communicants! Only in the last few years have we come out of a tough period of controversy that some have called “The Anglican Wars” as we sorted these issues out. Some people were kicked out of one parish or diocese or another, some picked up their marbles and simply left, either because we were too strict or not strict enough!

We think of ourselves as very inclusive and welcoming, but getting here was neither easy nor simple. All of this sorting is natural and very human, and every religious tradition will go through it every few generations. This problem is that all too often we close the lock the doors and pocket the key and justify it by saying “hey! It’s not my fault. After all, they are Jesus’ keys!”

At least in this country, locking someone out is mostly a matter of inconvenience or shame. But in other places around the globe, it can kill.

Remember, keys not only lock doors they open them, too.

What if what Jesus wanted these figurative keys to be used to open doors instead of locking them? What if these keys are meant to push back the power of death, not simply hold it at bay? What if we have gotten the purpose of these keys backwards?

Which is why we need to remember the warning label: “Handle with Care.”

I believe that the reason this Gospel story happens in a city of outsiders and interlopers, and the reason Jesus cares about how people understand him, is that we who confess Jesus as Lord have a job: to open the barriers and unlock the doors to God’s reign, just as Jesus did throughout his earthly ministry and through the cross and resurrection.

The keys of Jesus open the way of life to all people! We know what it looks like to lock, bolt and chain the door against outsiders—against the threats “out there.” But what if we used Jesus’ figurative keys to open doors that were once locked?

In looking back on forty years of ministry, I recall that many (most?) of the weddings, and a lot of the baptisms, and funerals I’ve been a part of were for people who were refused these in other churches. And, I have to admit that it took me a while to change my own heart about this. I can’t say when it was, but at some point I woke up and realized that I, as a Christian who functions as priest and pastor, can easily erect hurdles and hoops that can lock people out of the kingdom. So I have changed my practice: these days more and more I want to help people honor their desire to be married and let go of controlling the outcome—even if they never set foot in these four walls again, I want us to demonstrate Christian community, to use the keys Jesus gives us to let people in, even if it doesn’t go the way we expect or if it causes us to change our habits, even a little.

Sometimes, I imagine putting out an ad or putting up a billboard on busy intersections that said “if you have ever been turned away, abused, beat up or tossed out of a church” because, well, life happens, we are truly sorry, and now we are opening our doors to you. Or I fantasize about doing a “y’all come as you are” baptism… no classes, no forms, not even an offering plate, just a pool of water and maybe a big feed afterwards. It’s just a thought but I fantasize about how that might look. Why? Because God once unlocked our hearts and brought us into the Kingdom.

It is said that there are only two reasons everyone is not a Christian: (1) They either do not know a Christian or (2) They do. All of us were given our own set of keys to the kingdom of God at baptism and by our words and our actions we show people who Jesus is. But "handle with care!" Because it's on us! We can show people a Jesus who is indifferent or a Jesus who is engaged. We can show people a Jesus who can be a bully or a Jesus who is compassionate. We can show people a Jesus who is defensive and or we can demonstrate a Jesus who invites and embraces.

You see? What we bind or loose everyday really does make a difference!

Jesus took his friends and apprentices to a city of strangers, interlopers and foreigners and got them to say out loud that Jesus is the messiah and the son of the living God. Jesus entrusted us with keys and invites us to do the same…with a warning. With these keys we may lock people out; or with these keys we may, with God’s grace, open up locked places of the heart and let Jesus in.

I believe that we learn and do the work of Jesus, we will invite, embrace, and graciously, humbly open doors.

We all have been handed the keys to the kingdom! ”Handle with care!”

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Bulletin for Worship for the 13th Sunday after Pentecost, August 27, 2023 at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida.

Here are the Scripture Lessons for the 13th Sunday after Pentecost, August 27, 2023.

Here is a video of the Sermon at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida on August 27, 2023.

Here is a video of the Liturgy at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida on August 27, 2023.

God's Harvest in God's Time

This morning I am intrigued by two images: the image of Jacob dreaming of a ladder to heaven coming down right to the place where he was trying to sleep, and in that dream, he sees angels coming and going to heaven. The other intriguing image is of a farm or a garden where weeds and crops grow together. 

Both are images of the holy showing up in everyday life. Jacob’s ladder is nice and vertical— with angels bringing our concerns and experience to God and God sending grace, love, and guidance back to earth. The Gospel image is more horizontal and suggests an ethical component. How do we live faithfully and how do we separate holy and ethical living from the distractions, temptations, and sin in the everyday?

This past year, many of us in this parish—adults and young people—took the time to watch a TV miniseries about Jesus and his followers called “The Chosen.” We are waiting for the fourth season to be completed and broadcast soon. As much of a following this series has developed (the production is ‘crowd-sourced’ not bankrolled by investors), it’s strange how many preachers and faithful people have criticized it for one reason or another… too much this, not enough that, and so on. Then there was the minor flap that erupted when some members of the production crew were photographed wearing t-shirts with rainbow flag emblazoned on their shirts. (Gasp!)

Ever since Jesus roamed the countryside preaching to crowds and healing ordinary people where they lived or worked, there has always been a peanut-gallery of people—often dressed like me! – who clicked their tongues and told Jesus how it ought to be done.

But if you are going to live the Gospel… let alone communicate it… you’d better be ready to go to some pretty strange, unexpected places.

A long time ago, in a Big City far, far away, I got a chance to watch the taping of a daytime talk show. You know those clapping, cheering people in the studio audience? I was one of those people. But this was different. What was being taped was a pilot for a show hosted by an Episcopal priest named Father Albert Cutié.

You might remember him because was for a time in the news—particularly the tabloids—about fifteen years ago. At the time, Fr. Albert was a Roman Catholic priest who hosted a very popular Spanish-language talk-show on Telemundo called “Padre Alberto.” The show was so popular that some people called him “Father Oprah.”

Apparently, the tabloids caught him on the beach near Miami… and hold on to your hat… kissing the woman who would soon become his wife. Shocking!

The tabloids, of course, loved this… but the Catholic Church not so much. The Church punished him for having a girlfriend. Telemundo cancelled his show. So, he got married. And he and his wife were received into the Episcopal Church; and eventually, Bishop Leo Frade of Southeast Florida received Father Albert’s orders. We know in the Episcopal Church that he never stopped being a priest and today he serves as St. Benedicts in Plantation, Florida, in our neighboring Diocese of Southeast Florida. 

At the time, he wrote a book about the dilemmas he faced on his journey—that began way before he met his wife—from Rome to Canterbury and how the paparazzi simply crystallized the path he was already on. What I witnessed was an attempt to start up another talk show, this time in English, called “Father Albert.” Alas, it never made it out of “try-outs” and into syndication.

Well, one day, a buddy of mine, another priest, snagged some tickets to go watch a live taping, and I decided to go. I was curious: what to make of this show? Would it be Dr. Phil meets Ellen meets Fulton J. Sheen? I wanted to find out.

Even though the media made much of the tabloid story of a Roman Catholic priest who got married and becomes an Episcopal priest, that was not really news to me. Over the course of my ministry, I have known many friends and colleagues —layfolk and ordained people—who’ve followed that same path.

But an Episcopal priest—a colleague! — on TV? On a daytime talk show? What was God doing?

The lesson I learned that day was pretty much the same lesson I learned as a hospital chaplain, a parish priest, or as the resident priest of a city soup kitchen:  people have problems, they have choices to make, and sometimes they don’t know how to sort them out. In addition to parish ministry, he is still doing ministry on TV, the radio, and on YouTube, but the format is pretty simple: Father Albert just lets people who’ve made some fairly interesting (or just plain weird) life choices tell their stories and asks questions of them, and as they tell their stories it allows them to sort out how they might point their lives. And not just the guests, but I think also the viewers and listeners of his shows, benefit from the simple questions like: “Why?” “What do you think?” “What does that feel like…?” “What if…?” “What about…?”

On the day I went to this taping, I had my own dilemma: to collar or not to collar? My buddy followed instructions and wore a bright red polo shirt instead of his dog collar. Not me. As a chaplain, I was used to wearing “the symbol” in strange places and letting what happens happen, so I wore a clerical collar. The producers noticed and, through them, Father Albert—who wore his own black suit and clerical collar on the set—asked me a few questions before the first taping. Afterwards, Father Wayne and I were invited to go backstage to chat (and meet his wife, Ruhama, and their daughter, then a beautiful baby girl but now all grown up!) after the tapings.

Later the bus took us to Times Square for a few hours of being tourists. I went over to the Church of St. Mary the Virgin for Evening Prayer, and there, I noticed something: People. Lots and lots of people. People who would come in from the hustle and noise of the City to kneel, pray, light a candle, or just sit in the silence in a pew or before an icon or a cross. Who knows what was on their minds or in their hearts? What were they pouring out before God?

And I learned once again that this is how God shows up. It might be a talk show. Or a quiet church. Maybe a city street. In everyday life. Where we are, God is. It is like what when Jacob, on the run for having cheated his brother out of his birthright, was lying on the ground trying to get some sleep. God showed up for him in a vision of angels ascending and descending on a ladder to heaven planted right where was. There are lots of places in our lives where that ladder between earth and heaven… between us and God… is planted, interrupting (or stirring up!) our troubled sleep.

As I spoke with Father Albert, I thought of Jesus’ parable of weeds growing among thecrops. Do we rip out the weeds while the crop is still growing, or do we separate the good fruit from the rest at harvest time? Do we do the ripping out, or do we do as Jesus teaches, and leave it to God?

Too often, we Christians are quick to worry about everybody else’s garden, to go after each other with spiritual weed-whackers. But you know what? My pesky weed might just be your herbal tea. I don’t know. But God does.

Jesus’ story today is not about final judgment, but about discernment. Instead of trying to manage our anxiety when things don’t go our way, or to try to  fix someone else, Jesus invites to stop, attend to what’s going on inside us and to rest in God’s cultivation in God’s time. In the parable, Jesus asks us: why do we choose to spend our energy trying to make everyone else’s garden weed-free? Trust God to do the cultivation, the sorting, and the harvesting!

About two hundred-fifty years ago, when the industrial revolution was rapidly changing the face of England, an Anglican priest named John Wesley began to ride around on his horse and preach to people in those new factories, coal mines and mills. There were lots of people—particularly clergy— who criticized him for both his methods (open air preaching and small groups that met in homes and taverns instead of in parish churches). They called his theology of every holiness “shallow.” Today, we forget that way before there was a Methodist Church, there was a “method” and Wesley’s “method” was about inviting ordinary people to find Christ, and to discover faith and holiness by addressing the everyday problems of family, crowded urban (or lonely farm) living, of work and life. Wesley’s “practical holiness” taught us that in the midst of life there is grace.

Wherever we go, there God is. Wherever we rest our head, God erects a ladder to heaven. Wherever we are, God plants grace and cultivates hope. And God gives us the tools—of prayer, the sacraments, Scripture, Christian community and above all companionship, and sometimes even a talk show! —to let God do cultivating and so we can harvest in God’s time the fruits of life in Christ in our lives today.

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Bulletin for Worship for the 8th Sunday after Pentecost, July 23, 2023 at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida.

Here are the Scripture Lessons for the 8th Sunday after Pentecost, July 23, 2023.

Here is a video of the Sermon at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida on July 23, 2023.

Here is a video of the Liturgy at St. John's, Clearwater, Florida on July 23, 2023.