Every so often:
A modern day prophet:
Makes the news,
Crying that Jesus is coming back soon.

And throughout church history:
Generations of people have been anticipating the Second coming.
In fact, after Jesus’ death and resurrection:
His followers thought that his return to earth was imminent.

Even Saint Paul thought that Jesus was going to return in his generation.
Yet here we are:
2,000 years later:
And still awaiting the coming of our Lord.

The Church continues to be filled with these expectations:
Not unlike those who listened to John the Baptist in today’s Gospel:
Wondering if the coming of the Messiah is soon.

Humans have this kind of longing:
For someone to come and deliver us from all that is wrong with the world.
And so it’s easy to see why the people gathered around John the Baptist:

And mistook him for being the long-awaited Messiah.

He was a great preacher:
Boldly proclaiming the coming of the Kingdom of God:
Warning people to repent of their sins in preparation.
And the people had such a longing:
For the redeemer to arrive.

On this day:
The first Sunday after Epiphany:
We are like the people in the Gospel reading:
Filled with expectation:
With questions burning in our hearts:
still waiting for the Messiah to return.

And It seems weird:
Because we just celebrated Christmas.

We were waiting in advent:
We celebrated the birth of the baby:
And now suddenly, Jesus is a thirty year old man:
Getting baptized:
And we’re here in Church talking about waiting for Jesus to come again.
It’s kind of jolting.

But remember at the beginning of Advent?
When I told you we were going to pray for the light to come:
To guide us: and renew us?

And remember that I told you it wasn’t going to suddenly end with Christmas?
It seems to really fit with where we are today in the life of the church.

Because even though the Christ child has arrived:
We still long for and wait for the coming of Christ:
The second coming at the end of time,
And the coming of the holy spirit to renew and revive us in this time.

Today we specifically remember that Jesus baptizes us with the Holy Spirit and
fire.
The holy spirit: that empowers us to carry out the work of Jesus in a real and
tangible way.
And it’s our job to welcome that holy spirit in:
To listen to it:
And to let it change us.

As I told you at the beginning of Advent:
There’s a lot of darkness in the world.
A lot of despair.
Raging fires destroying peoples lives: right here in our own country.
Debilitating disease:

Loss, and grief.
And it’s easy to give into that despair.

But this reminder of Jesus: baptizing us with the Holy Spirit:
Is exactly what we need to cling to:
So that our hearts are not hardened:
And so that our human fears don’t overwhelm us.

Fear, despair and hardness of hearts:
Becomes a prison:
If we allow them to hold us hostage:
We end out shutting out others:
Denying mercy:
And hoarding resources.

Life without the holy spirit:
Pushes into this fear, despair, and hardness of heart:
Where we distrust our neighbors:
And have no hope for a better tomorrow.

But this baptism in the Holy Spirit does exactly the opposite:
It sustains us:
It gives us hope:
It opens our heart, rather than hardening it.

But it’s also not magic.
We have to long for it:
With a deep, and holy longing:
We have to ask the Holy Spirit to open our minds and hearts:
To guide us in the way of justice and truth.
We have to welcome that spirit:
Into our lives:
Our bodies:
And even our church.

And we have to be willing to let that spirit change us and transform us.
We prayed our prayer throughout avent:
Inviting the holy spirit to do just this.

And now:
I want to continue that.
Keep praying:
Maybe even begging:
The holy spirit to fill us:
To relieve our fears, our desperation,
To refuse a hardening of heart.

Inviting the holy spirit to renew and revive us:
To change and transform us:

In the way that is God’s will, and not our own.

Because when we’re following God’s will:
Empowered and transformed by the holy spirit:
We have nothing to fear.

The story of Jesus’ life proves fear wrong.
Jesus:
The one God calls beloved:
Conquered fear on the cross.
The perfect love that casts out all fear:
Through the power of the Holy Spirit.

And when we’re open to the holy spirit:
We can hear god more clearly:
Speaking to each of us:
Just as he spoke to Jesus on his baptismal day.

Saying:
When fire and water come:
I will be with you.
When it gets cold and painful:
I will be with you.
When life seems more work than joy:

More struggle than peace: I will never abandon you.

And I need YOU to be my presence for others in this way.
It will be a hard path at times,
But do not fear:
I will be with you.

Jesus has come into the world:
To set us free from fear and despair:
And he WILL come again as promised.
But until that day comes:
We call out to the holy spirit:
To comfort us:
To relieve us:
To revive us:
Refusing to give into despair:
Refusing to let our hearts be hardened.

Come, Lord, Jesus.
Come, Holy, Spirit.

And together let us pray:

Holy and Gracious God,

Maker of all things:
You alone are the source of light and life:
And for that we are supremely grateful.
Send us your light and your truth.

In the name of Jesus:
Dispel the darkness covering us,
Destroy the darkness around us.

Drive out all evil:
And bring us your eternal flame of light.

We cry out for you and your great light.
Come Lord Jesus:
Come heavenly light:
Come celestial brightness.

Renew us.
Enlighten us.
Revive us.

Send us your Holy spirit:
And bring us into being.
Create in us something new:

All in the name of your beloved Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.

“My soul magnifies the lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my savior.”

In today’s gospel we hear the Magnificat:
that great song of Mary found in the Gospel of Luke.

And there’s very similar words in the book of Samuel:
When another mother: Hannah, sings a similar song.

Hannah was unable to conceive and bear children:
We are told that it was because, “The Lord had closed her womb.”

In time, however, she did conceive:
And she gave birth to Samuel:
who would become a great priest and prophet.

When Hannah dedicates Samuel to the temple to become a priest:

She sings a song:
The song that Luke uses as the model for Mary’s song.

Hannah says,
“My heart exults in the Lord;

My strength is exalted in my God.”

It sounds a lot like Mary’s song:
“My soul magnifies the Lord.”

As both songs continue,
They talk about the mighty being laid low,
The lowly raised up:
About God acting in the world.

And so these women sing:
“My heart exults in the Lord.”
“My soul magnifies the Lord.”

That’s an arresting phrase: My soul magnifies the Lord.
MY soul magnifies the Lord.

It is sometimes translated as:
“my soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord.”

But there’s something really powerful about this translation:
“my soul magnifies the Lord.”

And it IS a better translation:
Since Mary’s song is named “The Magnificat”
The Latin word for “Magnifies.”
The more traditional, version translates the song as:
“My soul doth magnify the lord,”
And a little later says,
“For he that is mighty hath magnified me.”

Think about that:
Mary is saying:
I magnify the lord:
And the Lord also magnifies me.

Double magnification:
Double “Bigger.”
As if : In a magnifying glass.

And that’s where we are in Advent:
Advent prepares us for Christmas:
Taking us through the magnifying glass:
Through the looking glass.

There, everything looks familiar,
But everything is utterly and profoundly different.

Because God has become incarnate, enfleshed, one of us:
And that changes everything.
It magnifys everything.
It makes all meaning bigger.

This is the God-magnifying life of Jesus.
Where JESUS magnifies God:
Where JESUS: coming to earth:
Makes us more able to SEE god:
As if we are looking through a magnifying glass.

At the beginning of the service we prayed:
“that when Jesus comes he will find in our hearts a mansion prepared for him.”
It echos the Gospel of John:
Where Jesus says that he goes to prepare a mansion for us:
That in his father’s house there are many mansions.

Jesus promises to prepare a place for us.
And now we are on the cusp of welcoming God again:
And recognizing God as living, moving, and acting among us again.
We are told to prepare a mansion for God.

You know the song:
“Joy to the world”

“Let every heart, prepare Him room.”

Preparing God a space:
So that God might be born again in us.
So that we might be born again in him.
Our souls, or bodies, our very being, will magnify the greatness of God.
Will make it bigger:
More visible.

As Mary’s soul magnifys the lord:
So should ours.
We too, have a part in God’s divine action.

And that’s what Jesus’ incarnation is all about:
That’s what God becoming human is all about:
About how humans, too, can magnify the Lord:
Making God more visible:
Brining peace, joy, love, and hope to the world through us:
Magnifying God’s grace and spirit through us.

“My soul magnifies the Lord,” can mean that through me,
through you, through us:
others can see the Lord more clearly.
Through me and through you,

People can catch a glimpse of that peaceful kingdom:
Can see it magnified more clearly.

Through each of us, through our words and our actions,
through all that we do, can magnify God.

We magnify God’s being with our own bodies.
We magnify God’s action with our own practices.
We magnify God’s word with our words in the world.

But HOW can we magnify the Lord?
That’s a big question.
It’s easy to think that it’s too big for any one of us to handle.

But another important lesson that Mary’s Magnificat teaches is that we are
enough.
Whoever you are, whatever you have or haven’t done, you are enough.
The song of Mary reminds us that all of the scripture points to the little, the lowly,
the “who me?” as the vehicle for salvation.

Bethlehem is nothing special.
Hannah, the mother of Samuel, is nothing special:
Elizabeth:
The mother of John the Baptist, is nothing special.

And both Elizabeth and Hannah endured disgrace due to their barrenness.
And Mary:
Mary is a NOBODY.
An underage woman, from a nowhere town—Nazareth.

All throughout scripture whenever God wants to do something it’s the little,
the ordinary, the unexceptional that God uses.

When God wants to create humans:
God reaches into the mud.
When God wants to redeem all of creation:
God enters that creation fully and completely:
as one of the most vulnerable creatures on the planet:
a human child.

And a human child born to NOBODIES.
In a NOWHERE town.
A tiny baby:
Who is, at first, a NOBODY.
Yet, entirely enough
Enough to change human history,
Enough to change the world:
Enough to change us:
Into the beloved children of God that we are.

That tiny baby:
Magnifying the Lord:
Making God more visible to all.

It is through human beings, through human flesh:
Through this fragile and easily broken substance that salvation happens.
It is through us that God works.
Through us that God is magnified.

And just like Mary and Hannah, though little, we are enough.
Each of us is enough to magnify God.
Imagine what would happen if we let God work.

If we truly made room for God to be born in our hearts.
If we let God magnify the good work that God has begun and is already doing in
each of us.
What if we joined together with others to magnify that work?
Imagine the world that would be born from that.

As we prepare to welcome Christ once more into our hearts and our homes, may
our souls magnify more and more the glory of God.
May our souls:
Make God magnified:
Seen more clearly:
In the world and in us. Amen.

Rejoice in the Lord Always,
Again I will say rejoice!

The past two weeks:
We’ve heard a lot of bible stories depicting despair and destruction:
All sorts of apocalyptic images that must take place before the Advent:
The “coming into being”
of the new creation yet to come:
and the Christ child in the manger.

And on this Third Sunday of Advent,
We begin to see a sort of shift
In this expectant journey to Christmas:

Today is traditionally called “Gaudete” Sunday:
Gaudete is the Latin word for Rejoice:

And it’s why we light the pink candle on the advent wreath:
There’s a moment of joyful “brightening”:
Moving from the deep purple to pink.
But it’s not ALL sunshine and rainbows.

There’s still this lingering scary talk:
As John the Baptist shouts about repentance:
Calling the crowds a brood of vipers:
And even proclaiming the coming of Christ:
Not as a sweet cuddly baby:
But as someone who will baptize with Fire:
With a winnowing fork in his hand:
Burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.

It’s the same sort of stuff we’ve been hearing.
But there’s also this seemingly conflicting message of great joy.

Because right after John talks about this unquenchable fire,
This separation of the wheat and the chaff:
We’re told that John:
With many other exhortations:
Proclaimed the GOOD NEWS to the people.

All this scary talk from John the Baptist,
Doesn’t exactly feel like Good News.
It feels contradictory.

And to hear all of this,
About repentance, and fire, and winnowing forks:
On the same day that Paul urges us to “rejoice in the Lord always.”

Feels weird and conflicting.

But here’s the crazy part about that second lesson from Philippians.
Paul wrote that letter from PRISON.

Despite being in prison:
Paul is remarkably upbeat in this letter.
He’s exuding joy:
And encouraging his friends to trust God with all their worries and concerns.

And that’s not even all!
Our first lesson from Zephaniah is full images of joy:
Singing:
Shouting!
Rejoicing and exultation!
As if on a day of festival!

There’s a promise to remove disaster,
change shame into praise,
And a restoration of fortunes.

But there’s a weird contradiction in this lesson too.

Zephaniah tells us that all of this joyful delight will happen later:
It’s again a sort of apocalyptic image:

(although a happier one than the ones we we’ve been seeing.)

Zephaniah uses phrases like “at that time”
Or “on that day”
To describe a promise of something to come LATER.

The same phrase is used in the canticle today,
(Which is the reading that we read in place of the Psalm:
From the book of Isaiah)

This language of “on that day” or “at that time” signifies something not yet here:
Not yet in fruition:
But still coming into being:
An Advent:
Coming Later.

But here’s the contradiction.
Because although these things are yet to come:
We’re told TWICE in Zephaniah that “God IS in your midst.”

And that same phrase shows up in our canticle too.
If God is in our midst:
Midst doesn’t mean in the other room:
Or in some other place.
If God is in our midst:

That means that God is right in the center:
Right here:
Right now:
Not coming later.

The point of all of this is:
That contradictions aren’t necessarily impossibilities.
They don’t cancel one another out to create nothingness.

You CAN Be imprisoned and joyful:
Just like Paul.

You can actually even experience joy and sorrow at the same time.

You CAN be a brood of vipers:
In need of repentance:
And still seek good news of great joy in the knowledge of God’s forgiveness.

You can be a sinner, and also do great good.
You can do great good: and do great harm.

You CAN have God in your midst:
And still plead and long for MORE.

You CAN sing and dance and rejoice:

Even if things aren’t perfect.

You CAN long for something more:
While STILL being grateful for what you HAVE.

These seeming contradictions:
Remind us and teach us that It’s NOT all or nothing.

It’s not black and white.
It’s not Joy vs. Sorrow.
It’s not saints vs. sinners.

The Christian life is about ALL of it:
Human life is about ALL of it:
Our Advent:
Our coming into being is not a “one and done trip”

After all:
As we wait for our own advent:
Our own “coming into being”
We also know that we already ARE.
We already exist:
But it’s not just life or death.
It’s also the in-between.

Our advent is a continuous, ongoing adventure:
Where joy meets sorrow:
And mixes it all up.

A continuous, ongoing adventure:
Where the unquenchable fire:
The repentance and recognition of our sins:
Is also the source of good news.

It’s a continuous, ongoing coming into being:
Where we rejoice in God active among us:
And can also look forward to the day when we see and hear God even more
clearly.

God is already in our midst:
Already in the very center.
And yet, we still cry out “Come lord Jesus.”

We still pray,
As we prayed in our opening prayer today, to “Stir up your power, o Lord, and
with great might COME among us.”
Even though our Lord is already right here.

Advent is a good reminder that things are always more complicated than they
seem.
Humans are more complicated than they seem.
And the peace of God surpasses all of our human understanding.

We’ll never be able to fully understand Gods ways of peace, justice, and mercy.

What seems like a contradiction to us:
Might also be a part of God’s perfect plan.
But we’ll never know
Unless we live in our own advent:
Waiting expectantly:
For something more to come into being.

Amen

Good Morning!
And Happy First Sunday of Advent!

Except Advent isn’t all shine and rainbows.
When you look “Advent” up in the dictionary:
The first two definitions are obviously about the Coming of Jesus:
Jesus’ first Advent:
in his human birth.
And his second Advent: which is still yet to come.

But advent, NOT capitalized:
Literally means “a coming into being.”
Or a “Coming into use.”

Advent is:
Something coming: but not yet quite here.

And the images in advent:
As we will see in the coming weeks:
Aren’t really glorious images of the beautiful hope that is to come:
(or of the sweet Christ-Child in the manger.)

Before that:
There are all sorts of images of unfinishedness:

Unfulfilled-ness:
Even images of destruction and despair:
Before the great glorious “coming into being” that is yet to be realized.

Even JESUS talks about this in today’s Gospel.
He says, “There will be signs in the sun, the moon, and the stars,
And on the earth distress among nations confused by the roaring of the sea
and the waves.
People will faint from fear and foreboding of what is coming upon the world,
For the powers of the heavens will be shaken.”

These words from Jesus sound less than happy.
They sound terrifying.

Part of the season of Advent is acknowledging this terrifying reality.
The terrifying reality of things not being as the should be:
The hard road of coming into being.
(Or as we heard a few weeks ago: the beginning of the birth pangs).

So there’s that sort of terrifying reality that is a piece of Advent.

And the other part of Advent:
Is the expectant hope:
The expectant SOLID BELIEF:
That the current terrifying reality is not the end:
That something better is coming into being.

And Jesus points us in this direction:
He says, “Now when these things begin to take place.”
(Meaning this terrifying stuff about distress among nations, and fear and
foreboding.)

When these things begin to take place:
Stand up and raise your heads:
Because your redemption is drawing near.”

The point of all of this is:
That Advent isn’t just about waiting for Jesus to be born
(although it is that)

It’s ALSO the time of waiting:
THROUGH the despair and the destruction:
For something more to come into being.

In Jerimiah:
We heard today:
That God promises that the days are coming:
When a righteous Branch will spring up and bring about true justice and
righteousness.
But this hasn’t happened yet.

And the faithful people:
In Jeremiah’s time and ours:
Are called to patience and hope.

But not in a trite way:
In a true:
Steadfast belief that it WILL happen.
DEMANDING that it will happen:
That the true Advent WILL come:
That the entire world will come into being as God intended.

And ALSO:
This has implications for us right here at St. John’s.

We’re obviously waiting in this season of Advent:
For the Christ child to be born.

And we’re obviously waiting:
For the moment where Jesus comes again:
To bring the entire world into being.

But it’s also more local than that.
Maybe even more imminent than that.

I believe that we, at St. John’s church in New London:
Are also waiting for our own coming into being:
Into what God intends for us.
Our own sort of revival.

I think that God wants something more for us.

LONGS for something more for us:
And it’s our job to invite and welcome it in.

It’s our job to shout and scream “Come lord Jesus.”
Not because Jesus isn’t already here:
But because we want more:
Because we believe there can be more:
We can even DEMAND MORE.

And there’s a lot of darkness and destruction in today’s world.
In our own lives,
And sometimes even clouding over our own beloved church.

It seems to me:
That this season of Advent is the perfect time for us to begin to pray out the
darkness and destruction:
And to invite in the light.

It’s the perfect time:
to pray for renewal:
for Revival:
To believe that it is possible:
And to maybe even DEMAND that it take place.

Our opening Collect:
(which was read today in every Episcopal Church across this country)
acknowledges this:

We prayed, “Almighty God, give us grace that we may cast away the works
of darkness, an put upon us the armor of light.”

But I want more even more than this one prayer offers.

So we’re going to keep praying it.
(But with different words)

We’re going to welcome in the light:
Demand the light of revival:
For as long as it takes.

And It will almost certainly take longer than this season of Advent.

Our own Advent:
At St. John’s New London:
Our own renewal and revival will not suddenly appear for us on Christmas
morning.

We’ll still rejoice in the birth of the Christ Child:
AND:
we’ll keep praying:
Keep demanding:
A renewal and revival from the Holy Spirit:
Right here in this space.

But for now:

During this Church season designed for expectation:
For waiting:
And for prayer:
We’ll light our Advent wreath every week.

We’ll pray the light in.
We’ll cry “Come Lord Jesus.”

We’ll sing O COME O COME EMANNUEL:
(And we might even sing it so many times that we get tired of it.)

Because we must.
We must demand the light to come over us:
And to drive away all signs of darkness.

Please join me in this season,
And well beyond:
As we wait for our own Advent:
Our own new “Coming into Being.”
Which only God can bring to us.

Amen.

Holy and Gracious God,
Maker of all things:
You alone are the source of light and life:
And for that we are supremely grateful.
Send us your light and your truth.
In the name of Jesus:
Dispel the darkness covering us,
Destroy the darkness around us.
Drive out all evil:
And bring us your eternal flame of light.
We cry out for you and your great light.
Come Lord Jesus:
Come heavenly light:
Come celestial brightness.
Renew us.
Enlighten us.
Revive us.
Bring us into being:
And create in us something new:
All in the name of your glorious Son,
Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

Throughout history:
Christians have lived in and under:
All sorts of political arrangements.

In empires and under emperors,
In democracies with presidents and prime ministers:

In monarchies with kings and queens:
With dictators in repressive regimes:
And in open societies with lots of rights and privileges.

Christians have lived in all of it.
And not a single one is explicitly “Christian.”

What has united all Christians throughout time:
Is that regardless of what earthly powers ordered Christians daily lives,
Those political regimes were only a secondary allegiance.

In truth:
All Christian’s throughout all time:
Owe their allegiance to Christ the king and the Kingdom of God.

And today:
Is Christ the King Sunday:

The final Sunday of the church year before advent begins.

So before we begin contemplating the baby in the manger:
We celebrate and place our allegiance:
In Christ the King.

When we think about Christ as king:
(If we even do it at all)
Many of us may have in mind the images of Jesus of a king with great
power:
Giving us the impression that he is similar to all other earthly kings,
Except maybe more powerful.

But our Gospel today brings into stark relief:
Who Christ’s kingship and his kingdom:
Are in contrast with any and all earthly power.

Today’s gospel reading is one that is often misunderstood.
With Pilate facing off against Jesus as almost a tragic figure, or even a sort
of antihero.
But make no mistake:
Pilate represents the monstrous powers of the earth:
The way that humans wield power and control over others through
violence, repression, and domination, standing in for the whole Roman
Empire.

It is fascinating to begin with that we don’t even have a king to king
showdown:
But instead, King Jesus face to face with Caesar’s REPRESENTATIVE:
Since Caesar himself is too high and mighty to approach his people (in
contrast to our incarnate King, Jesus.)

In the story:
Pilate asks if Jesus is a king.
But this question is complicated in translation.
(Remember that the Bible was not written in English!)

The real way that Pilate asks this question is sort of mockingly,
Like, “What? YOU? a king?!?”

How can this homeless man:
Not even a citizen:
Claim to be a king, when we have the great Caesar?

And yet:
This is still:
Even in its mocking scorn:
A matter of life and death.

To claim kingship contra Caesar:
Was to invite the death penalty.

And here’s another contrast between Caesar and Christ as king.

Caesar only has power at the expense of other people.
Jesus, though:
Is so powerful that we are invited to become more and more like him:
Drawing us closer to him:
Rather than making the separation greater.

But back to the story:
After Pilate asks the question:
Jesus answers, not directly, but affirmatively.

“My kingdom is not from this world”
Now again: There’s some translation issues here.
Some translations say “My kingdom is not OF this world”

OF or FROM:
Both are possible from the original Greek:
But saying “My kingdom is not of this world”
Gives the sense of it being otherworldly:
Not impacting our lives now:
Only dealing with an inner spirituals state or time after death.

But this is not what Jesus is saying.
The Kingdom of God is always crashing into our current reality:
Challenging and superseding it.

What Jesus is saying:
Is that his kingdom is based on:

Gets its power an authority from something higher.

His point is that he does not need violence to establish or maintain his
kingdom.
It is based in power far greater than that.

As we will see:
It is based in the sort of power that can conquer the seeming weakness
and failure: and suffering death on a cross.

Jesus then affirms his kingdom is rooted in truth:
Which is met by Pilates famous response:
Just after what we read today.
Pilate says:
“What is truth?”

But this isn’t a philosophical question (even if it seems that way)
Its again the mocking scorn of one who is power hungry and power
poisoned.

It’s more like he’s saying:
“what even is truth? And who even cares?
Truth doesn’t move the world:
Power does.”

And this gives us the final significant distinction:
Between the Kingship of Christ:

And the Kingship of earthly powers:

Christ’s kingdom is rooted in truth:
In speaking the truth:
And in seeking the truth.

In a world where power is built through misinformation:
This is a radical affirmation.

And we know:
That Christ will:
In his resurrection:
Become the king enthroned above:

But not before he is first enthroned on the cross:
A feat that no other earthly power is willing to experience.

The takeaway for all of us:
Is that Christ the King:
Is our ultimate power and authority.

We are under his dominion,
And we are called to follow our allegiance to him and no one else.

We are called to live lives of peace:
To be rooted in truth:
And to seek out that truth and follow it:

Even when it’s inconvenient and difficult:
Even when it goes contrary to our comfort.

And ultimately:
We are to become more and more like our king:
Recognizing that we too may be called to follow the way of the cross:
In witness against the powers of this world:
And in witness to our only true king.

Amen.

Good morning! And happy November!

The air is getting cooler,
The days are getting shorter:
And yet: the month of November is a steady celebration of harvest, abundance,
and gratitude.

And in the church:
This season begins with a very important celebration:
The celebration of All Saints day.

It’s a day of gratitude:
where we remember and honor the saints who have gone before us:
Those faithful and famous:
And those who we knew in our own time and lives.

As we celebrate All Saints day, we gather to remember those who have died,
And we anticipate the glorious resurrection that is yet to come:
For us, and for all who have gone before us.

It’s particularly special today,
Because we have these stones:
Formed out of the ashes of our brother Joe:

One of our own faithful departed.
These stones are a significant reminder that those who have died are still with us:
Still united to us in what the church calls “The great cloud of witnesses.”

On all Saints day:
We remember that we are not just individual followers of Jesus:
We are all united and connected to one another through the living God:
Or as our collect says today:
We are: “knit together in one communion and fellowship, in the mystical body of
Christ our lord.”

As we remember, honor, and pray for those who have died:
It feels funny at first to also talk about money.

That’s the other thing we’re doing today.
Kicking off this month of gratitude, with our stewardship Sunday.

Initially, I thought “how am I going to connect these two things?”
All saints and stewardship?
It feels so weird:
To honor those who have died,
And also talk about money.

Money seems meaningless in the midst of grief and death.
It’s why they say that old adage, “You can’t take it with you.”

It seems gauche to ask you to fill out a pledge card,
While also remembering those who have died.

But the more that I thought about it, and prayed about it:
The more it began to make sense.

Actually in a real “Jesus” Sort of way:
Everything I initially thought, got turned upside down:
And the Spirit brought new life:
To think about things more deeply, and differently.

There are, of course, practical reasons for asking you to give a portion of your
income to the church.

Practically speaking, we need income:
to keep the doors of this church open.
To keep the lights on,
To heat and cool the building:
To have a space to worship the living God,
And to provide grace, mercy and healing to each other, and all others.

And practically speaking:
We invite people to pledge their giving for the year,
So that we can set our budget:
And know what we can expect to work with to continue our ministries.

These practicalities are important, and they’re real.
But they’re also “first glance thinking”
(Until the Spirit turns it all upside down.)

It gets flipped upside-down when we realize that the knitting together of all the
faithful followers of Jesus is the whole point of the church.
That’s what All-saints day is.

This holy: All-saints celebration:
Is basically the epitome of what it means to be a follower of Jesus.
To be knit together to all the faithful:
Placing our hope in the ultimate resurrection of the dead,
And the eager anticipation of our own glorious resurrections.

What I’m trying to say:
Is that the church exists in order to carry the legacy of Jesus, and all of his faithful
followers throughout the centuries.

So when we give to the church:
We’re preserving that legacy.
The legacy of Jesus which knits us together:
To those we love who have died,
And to those faithful that we’ve never met.

And if we’re being honest:
It makes sense to connect this honoring of those who have died,
With the financial responsibility to continue the mission of the church.

It is, after all,
At the moment of death:
Either or own, or that of our loved ones:
That we most long for the mission and legacy of Jesus: which is revealed to us
through the church.

It’s why an unresponsive loved one,
On a deathbed,
Might show signs of response during the recitation of the Lord’s prayer.

It’s why the 23 rd Psalm is such a comfort in times of grief and loss.
“Though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death:
I shall fear no evil.”

It’s why Mary:
In today’s Gospel:
Weeps and says to Jesus “Lord! If you had been here, my brother would not have
died.”

And it’s these moments:
Of death and resurrection:

That are most pivotal to the life of Jesus:
To the life of the church:
And to the eternal life promised to us, and all the faithful departed.

But one more thing about this famous story of the raising of Lazarus.
While Mary and Martha are overcome with grief over the death of their brother:
Jesus cries out with a loud voice:
And Lazarus: Who was dead:
Came ourt:
Once again alive.

Except:
This was not resurrection:
In the way that Jesus was resurrected.

Lazarus is going to die again:
A human death,
Like each one of us.

His sisters (If still alive) will mourn and grieve him yet again.
But the message of Jesus:
The legacy of the saints, and all the faithful departed:
The hope of the church:
Is that death never has the last word.
Death is never the end of the story.

Because the end of the story is a new beginning:
A new heaven, and a new earth:
Resurrection of the body,
Life everlasting,
With all those who have gone before,
And all those who will come after.
United and knit together by Jesus himself.

But that new beginning isn’t here yet.
And it’s our job is to continue the legacy:
Carry the legacy of Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection.
Pass on the legacy of the mission of the church:
And hold the legacy of all the saints:
Including those we have loved and lost.

I invite you today,
To two different ways that you can carry these united legacies.

You have two small cards today:
One a pledge card:
And one a blank card.

You know what the pledge card is for.

Offering up some of your income to continue the legacy of Jesus through the
mission of the church.

But the blank card is a little bit different.
I invite you to write the names of your own faithful departed:
Those loved ones in your life who have died:
So that we can honor and pray for them today:
Continuing their legacy:
As we wait for resurrection in the new heaven and the new earth.

(Please write as legibly as possible, so that I can pray the names out loud.)

And when you’re finished,
With one or both of the cards:
You can bring them to the altar:
And when the time is right:
I’ll lead is in prayer:
Prayer for all the faithful departed:
For those you name on your cards,

We’ll pray over Joes ashes:
And commit them to the living God.

We’ll pray for the continued mission of the church,
And we’ll pray for ourselves:

As we strive to continue and carry Jesus’ legacy.

For the last several weeks,
We have been traveling through Mark’s Gospel:
And learning lot about discipleship.

The stories we’ve been hearing have been about what it means to be called, and
to follow Jesus.

And we heard some stories about people that you would THINK would be ideal
candidates for good discipleship.
In order to understand today’s story:
We have to review the stories from the last few weeks.

Remember that story a few weeks ago?
A young man comes to Jesus.
He’s eager to learn.
HE’s wealthy.
He knew the law: he followed all of the ten commandments.

This guy was eager, well-read, and well-resourced:
(We would want this guy to join our church!)

But Jesus calls him to give up everything:
To recognize that eternal life does not come from having it all:

But rather about giving yourself fully over to Jesus:
Letting Jesus determine everything about how life is lived.
The man walked away in deep, deep sadness:
Because he just couldn’t give up the things that separated him from God.

When at first he appeared to be the perfect candidate for discipleship:
It turned out, he wasn’t.

Then least week, we heard about James and John:
The sons of Zebedee.
They too appeared to be the perfect candidates for discipleship.
After all, they already HAD given up everything to follow Jesus.
They were spending all of their time with him.

And yet:
When they reveal their desire for fame and glory:
It’s clear that they haven’t really heard what Jesus was teaching.
They sort of thought that they were hedging their bets:
By giving up everything to later get that power and glory.

Two followers of Jesus:
Who appear to be the perfect candidates for discipleship:
Turn out to fall quite short of the task.

And then Mark:

The Gospel writer:
Takes us to this story today.
Right before Jesus enters Jerusalem to suffer and die on the cross,
He encounters this blind man.
Not only a blind man:
But a beggar.

You’ve seen beggars:
Panhandlers on the street.
This guy is hardly one that anyone would consider an ideal disciple.

He’s on the outside:
Quite literally:
On the side of the road:
Outside of the city.

And here’s a really important point:
In Jesus’ time:
This blind beggar, was not only an outsider:
It also would’ve been assumed that he::
Or his family: were great sinners.

People assumed that’s where blindness came from:
As a punishment for sin.

So all in all, this man is the lowest of the low.

At first glance, no one would expect this man to be a model for discipleship:
But that’s exactly what he is.

In the story,
He recognizes that Jesus is the son of David,
And calls out to him.
He doesn’t call out for anything in particular:
Just for mercy.
A pretty solid disciple.

He doesn’t come to Jesus until Jesus calls him.
So he recognizes the authority of Jesus’ call.
Another characteristic of a true disciple.

And in coming to Jesus:
He leaves behind his cloak:
His only possession:
Something that represented him doing what that rich young man could not.

He gives up ALL he has to come to Jesus:
And this isn’t just an issue of “he’ll come back for the cloak after he’s healed.”
Because at this moment in the story:
Jesus is on the notoriously dangerous road from Jericho to Jerusalem:

The same road referenced in that story of the Good Samaritan:
Where the road was full of murderers and thieves.

This blind beggar is not ever going to see that cloak again.

And when he finally gets to Jesus,
He doesn’t not ask for power or wealth.
He doesn’t ask to have the glory seat in eternity.
He asks to have his sight back:
So that he might be able to follow Jesus further.
An unlikely model disciple.

The point seems to be that when we think that we’re the disciples:
we should be awfully careful.
Because things aren’t always as they first seem.

Real disciples beg for mercy:
Like this blind beggar.
Disciples are prepared to repent of our failures:
And put following Jesus as truly the highest good.

And we should also expect examples of discipleship to come in the most
unexpected places:
Among those on the outside:
Among the truly lowest of the low:

And among those least likely in our minds to be disciples.

But there’s one more twist to this unexpected reality.
(Mark likes to put little subtle ‘twists’ into his gospel)

Mark portrays this blind beggar as the model disciple:
Although unexpected.
He’s more of a disciple than those who are actually CALLED Jesus’ disciples (like
those brothers of Zebedee, or all the wacky times that Peter just doesn’t get it.)

Even this model disciple falls short in the end.
We know this:
Because at the end:
At the cross:
Every one of these disciples abandons Jesus.
(Except for some women, of course.)

And remember how the blind beggar called Jesus “The son of David?”
That was a marker of conquering, earthly power.
The direct opposite of what Jesus called himself, which was “son of man.”
Even Blind Bartimaeus thought that Jesus should be more glamourous, glorious
and powerful than the lowly “suffering savior” on the cross.

The cross challenges and destroys all our expectations:
Even the expectations of the best disciples.

Jesus calls us to give up everything to follow him:
To follow him all the way to the cross.
And here’s the thing:
No matter how good or bad we are:
We will fail at it.

We will have to:
As the baptismal covenant reminds us:
“repent an return to Christ.”
Even if we’re model disciples.

But don’t worry:
There’s great hope:
Indeed, GOOD news.

There’s good news for the disciples who followed Jesus (like James and John)
There’s good news for the blind beggar,
And there’s even good news for the rich young man.

There’s good news for ALL of us:
That even when we fail at discipleship:
We are always able to repent and return.
Begging for mercy:
We will receive it.
Amen.