Jos 5:9a, 10-12
2 Cor 5:17-21
Lk 15:1-3, 11-32
The movie A Christmas Story, set in Northern Indiana in the late 1940’s, is primarily about the quest of young Ralphie to get a particular present for Christmas, a Red Ryder BB gun. Yet the story also deals a lot with everyday life, and with other preoccupations of our young hero. One thing Ralphie is looking for is a Little Orphan Annie secret decoder ring, an absolute necessity if he is to be able to decipher the coded message given at the end of the Little Orphan Annie radio show. He saved Ovaltine labels, drank the stuff in mass quantities, and dutifully mailed everything in to obtain the ring. Diligently Ralphie checks the mail each day on the way home from school, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the coveted ring. Finally the ring arrives, and Ralphie is overjoyed. At last he can decode the message! When he does, however, he discovers the message is nothing more than a commercial for Ovaltine, the drink he has consumed gallons of to obtain the ring. Greatly disappointed, he never mentions the ring again. What he watched for, waited for, longed for, has done nothing but let him down. A young man demands his share of his inheritance, takes the money and proceeds to throw it all away living a dissolute life. His father, who acquiesced in his son’s demand for the money, watches and waits, waits for the return of his son. Surely this man is disappointed in his son, in his son’s behavior, in his foolishness, in his wasted life. He watches, and when he sees his lost son on the road home, he runs to him. He runs to him not to berate him for his foolishness, but to bring him back into the warmth and the love of his family. No one would blame the man for being angry, no one would fault him for exacting some sort of punishment on his son. Make him work, make him pay the money back, demand some sort of restitution. Instead the father celebrates, joyous that his son has returned. He accepts his son despite his faults and failings. Will the son disappoint again? Probably, he learned a valuable lesson, but being human, he will need at times to be reminded. He learned, but he still isn’t perfect. Our God watches and waits for us, watching diligently to see if we are on the way home. Just like young Ralphie he checks everyday to see if we have made it back yet. Unlike Ralphie, God knows what to expect. We have squandered the inheritance we were given, thrown away the gift that Christ obtained for us, yet God watches and waits. Even when we do return, repentant and pledging to live differently, God knows we will still disappoint. We learn lessons, but we are not perfect, not yet. Just like the decoder ring, we will find a way to be less than we could be, less than we want to be, we will fail again. God knows this, God knows that we will disappoint, again and again. Still God watches and waits, and welcomes us back with joy, every time.
Deacon John
Fourth Sunday of Lent
March 14, 2010
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Sunday, February 21, 2010
First Sunday of Lent
Dt 26:4-10
Rom 10:8-13
Lk 4:1-13
What do we want, and what do we need? How often do we confuse those things? There are a lot of things I want, there are a lot of things I have, but I should ask myself, do I need them? We all have a lot of things now, things we consider necessities, that just a few years ago were if not luxuries, at least not something that you could do without. Cell phones, all of us have one, and perhaps they have become necessities, but you could survive without it. The same can be said for computers, internet access, and a lot of new technology. Sixty years ago television was a luxury, and not something that was a necessity. The same can be said about radio if we go back 70 or 80 years. There are a lot of things we have or want that maybe we could do without, a lot of stuff that tempts us to believe we can’t live without it. Jesus was in the desert, hungry, tired, and tempted to turn stones into bread. He refused. Just as he refused to worship the tempter, just as he refused to tempt the Creator. What did he want, what did he need? Jesus managed to separate those two things. Yes he was hungry, he wanted bread, but how much bread did he actually need? He didn’t need the power and glory offered to him. His faith was strong enough he did not need to test it by tempting God. In this season let us examine our own lives and try to determine what we need, as opposed to what we want. How much stuff is enough? Who, or what, do I worship? Do I need proof of God’s existence, or do I have faith? Now is the time task these questions, now is the time to seek the answers, now as we prepare.
Deacon John
First Sunday of Lent
Feb. 21, 2010
Rom 10:8-13
Lk 4:1-13
What do we want, and what do we need? How often do we confuse those things? There are a lot of things I want, there are a lot of things I have, but I should ask myself, do I need them? We all have a lot of things now, things we consider necessities, that just a few years ago were if not luxuries, at least not something that you could do without. Cell phones, all of us have one, and perhaps they have become necessities, but you could survive without it. The same can be said for computers, internet access, and a lot of new technology. Sixty years ago television was a luxury, and not something that was a necessity. The same can be said about radio if we go back 70 or 80 years. There are a lot of things we have or want that maybe we could do without, a lot of stuff that tempts us to believe we can’t live without it. Jesus was in the desert, hungry, tired, and tempted to turn stones into bread. He refused. Just as he refused to worship the tempter, just as he refused to tempt the Creator. What did he want, what did he need? Jesus managed to separate those two things. Yes he was hungry, he wanted bread, but how much bread did he actually need? He didn’t need the power and glory offered to him. His faith was strong enough he did not need to test it by tempting God. In this season let us examine our own lives and try to determine what we need, as opposed to what we want. How much stuff is enough? Who, or what, do I worship? Do I need proof of God’s existence, or do I have faith? Now is the time task these questions, now is the time to seek the answers, now as we prepare.
Deacon John
First Sunday of Lent
Feb. 21, 2010
Wednesday, February 17, 2010
Ash Wednesday
Jl 2:12-18
2 Cor 5:20—6:2
Mt 6:1-6, 16-18
It’s Lent? Already, it’s Lent? Didn’t we just celebrate Christmas yesterday? I have to tell you, I am not ready for it to be Lent. I need more time to get ready, to prepare myself, mentally, to take on the challenge that is Lent. This can’t happen yet. Could we put it off for another week, maybe two, just to give me more time to get ready? The real problem is, if we are willing to admit it to ourselves, is that we will never be ready. Lent can start today, tomorrow, next week, next month it really doesn’t matter, we will never be ready. We don’t want to face ourselves and admit that we are indeed imperfect beings. We definitely don’t want to face God knowing that we are imperfect, that we are indeed sinners. The admission to ourselves that we fall short makes it hard for us to face God, because we are afraid. We’re afraid because we know we don’t look good to ourselves, so how can we stand how we must look to God. We’re afraid, but we fear without cause. God calls to us, just as the prophet Joel says, because God is full of mercy and compassion, full of kindness and slow to anger. God calls to us because we are loved. This call to accept the compassion of God is ongoing, all day, every day. But being human, being limited, and being afraid, we need a push, a nudge, a reminder that God is calling us, and that we should not be afraid to heed that call. Thus we have Lent. Lent, which is our push, our nudge, our reminder that God loves us more than we can ever comprehend. Lent, a reminder of the great love demonstrated for us forty days from now.
Deacon John
Ash Wednesday
Feb. 17, 2010
2 Cor 5:20—6:2
Mt 6:1-6, 16-18
It’s Lent? Already, it’s Lent? Didn’t we just celebrate Christmas yesterday? I have to tell you, I am not ready for it to be Lent. I need more time to get ready, to prepare myself, mentally, to take on the challenge that is Lent. This can’t happen yet. Could we put it off for another week, maybe two, just to give me more time to get ready? The real problem is, if we are willing to admit it to ourselves, is that we will never be ready. Lent can start today, tomorrow, next week, next month it really doesn’t matter, we will never be ready. We don’t want to face ourselves and admit that we are indeed imperfect beings. We definitely don’t want to face God knowing that we are imperfect, that we are indeed sinners. The admission to ourselves that we fall short makes it hard for us to face God, because we are afraid. We’re afraid because we know we don’t look good to ourselves, so how can we stand how we must look to God. We’re afraid, but we fear without cause. God calls to us, just as the prophet Joel says, because God is full of mercy and compassion, full of kindness and slow to anger. God calls to us because we are loved. This call to accept the compassion of God is ongoing, all day, every day. But being human, being limited, and being afraid, we need a push, a nudge, a reminder that God is calling us, and that we should not be afraid to heed that call. Thus we have Lent. Lent, which is our push, our nudge, our reminder that God loves us more than we can ever comprehend. Lent, a reminder of the great love demonstrated for us forty days from now.
Deacon John
Ash Wednesday
Feb. 17, 2010
Sunday, February 07, 2010
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Is 6:1-2a, 3-8
1 Cor 15:1-11
Lk 5:1-11
Blessings, we all have them, no matter what we might think of our circumstances. Perhaps we think we have more than we will ever need. More likely, we don’t think we have nearly enough. We could always use more we think, more money, more space, more time, more something. If we are honest with ourselves, however, we are blessed in some way, no matter how meager we may think our circumstances are. My associate always starts off our non-denominational services for our residents and staff by singing a song that goes, “We’re blessed, we’re blessed, we’re blessed. We have shelter, clothing and strength, we are blessed, we don’t deserve it but yet we are blessed.” We tend to discount the blessings we have perhaps because we don’t believe we deserve them. Well, we don’t. We don’t deserve whatever blessings we have, so we are skeptical, and we are afraid. We know we are not worthy, we know that we can never earn those blessings that God has granted us. We fear for no reason, the blessings we have are a gift, God’s grace is a gift, freely given despite the fact we don’t deserve it. In the first reading the writer proclaims;
“Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips;” but despite his fear the next thing that happens is amazing, it is a gift, God’s grace granted freely as, “one of the seraphim flew to me,
holding an ember that he had taken with tongs from the altar. He touched my mouth with it, and said, ‘See, now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed, your sin purged.’”
In the Gospel reading today Jesus asks Peter to set out from the shore so that Jesus could teach the crowd without being crushed or pushed into the sea. Peter does as he was asked, then when Jesus finishes teaching he tells Peter to set out for deep water and lower his nets for a catch. Peter tells Jesus that they had fished all night unsuccessfully, but he would do as Jesus asked. Now Peter was a fisherman, a rough-hewn, straight talking, hard-minded businessman. He was probably skeptical about the possibility of catching anything, but he did as Jesus asked. He did as Jesus asked and was blessed with a harvest of fish so bountiful it nearly sank his boat and another. Peter knew he did not deserve this blessing, he knew that by the standard of his day he may have been a good guy, a hale fellow well-met sort, but not a holy man. This gift frightened him, because he knew he did not deserve it. He looked to Jesus and said, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”
Each of us fits in that same place, the place where the writer of the first reading was, the place where Peter was. When confronted with the greatness of God, when facing the grace and the almost unbearable love that God showers upon us, we are terrified. We don’t deserve this, we are a people of unclean lips, a people who are good by some standard, but surely nor holy, surely not worthy of God’s attention much less God’s boundless love. We are so programmed to think we have to earn things, we have a hard time believing that this great gift is ours, with no way we can reciprocate, no way we can earn it. We can’t earn it but we still feel a need to do something, we do have to respond somehow, don’t we? We can respond, first by accepting the gift, by not being afraid of the gift. Then, knowing that we are not working to earn this gift of love, of grace, we look around and offer it, undeserved, without reservation or expectation, to the rest of the world.
“Here I am,” I said; “send me!”
Deacon John
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Feb. 7, 2010
1 Cor 15:1-11
Lk 5:1-11
Blessings, we all have them, no matter what we might think of our circumstances. Perhaps we think we have more than we will ever need. More likely, we don’t think we have nearly enough. We could always use more we think, more money, more space, more time, more something. If we are honest with ourselves, however, we are blessed in some way, no matter how meager we may think our circumstances are. My associate always starts off our non-denominational services for our residents and staff by singing a song that goes, “We’re blessed, we’re blessed, we’re blessed. We have shelter, clothing and strength, we are blessed, we don’t deserve it but yet we are blessed.” We tend to discount the blessings we have perhaps because we don’t believe we deserve them. Well, we don’t. We don’t deserve whatever blessings we have, so we are skeptical, and we are afraid. We know we are not worthy, we know that we can never earn those blessings that God has granted us. We fear for no reason, the blessings we have are a gift, God’s grace is a gift, freely given despite the fact we don’t deserve it. In the first reading the writer proclaims;
“Woe is me, I am doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips;” but despite his fear the next thing that happens is amazing, it is a gift, God’s grace granted freely as, “one of the seraphim flew to me,
holding an ember that he had taken with tongs from the altar. He touched my mouth with it, and said, ‘See, now that this has touched your lips, your wickedness is removed, your sin purged.’”
In the Gospel reading today Jesus asks Peter to set out from the shore so that Jesus could teach the crowd without being crushed or pushed into the sea. Peter does as he was asked, then when Jesus finishes teaching he tells Peter to set out for deep water and lower his nets for a catch. Peter tells Jesus that they had fished all night unsuccessfully, but he would do as Jesus asked. Now Peter was a fisherman, a rough-hewn, straight talking, hard-minded businessman. He was probably skeptical about the possibility of catching anything, but he did as Jesus asked. He did as Jesus asked and was blessed with a harvest of fish so bountiful it nearly sank his boat and another. Peter knew he did not deserve this blessing, he knew that by the standard of his day he may have been a good guy, a hale fellow well-met sort, but not a holy man. This gift frightened him, because he knew he did not deserve it. He looked to Jesus and said, “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.”
Each of us fits in that same place, the place where the writer of the first reading was, the place where Peter was. When confronted with the greatness of God, when facing the grace and the almost unbearable love that God showers upon us, we are terrified. We don’t deserve this, we are a people of unclean lips, a people who are good by some standard, but surely nor holy, surely not worthy of God’s attention much less God’s boundless love. We are so programmed to think we have to earn things, we have a hard time believing that this great gift is ours, with no way we can reciprocate, no way we can earn it. We can’t earn it but we still feel a need to do something, we do have to respond somehow, don’t we? We can respond, first by accepting the gift, by not being afraid of the gift. Then, knowing that we are not working to earn this gift of love, of grace, we look around and offer it, undeserved, without reservation or expectation, to the rest of the world.
“Here I am,” I said; “send me!”
Deacon John
Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Feb. 7, 2010
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jer 1:4-5, 17-19
1 Cor 12:31—13:13
Lk 4:21-30
Walking is supposed to be a good way of maintaining you health. A good brisk walk can help keep your heart in shape, help maintain your weight, and just generally make you feel better. The good people of Jesus’ native town, shortly after services in the synagogue, invited Jesus to take a short walk, though I doubt it would have done much for his health. It was, indeed a very short walk, just one step, albeit one very long step. They were just a bit upset with him, when he pointed out that a prophet is generally not well received in that prophet’s native place. He pointed out how miracles had been worked, but for outsiders like Naaman. They were upset, ostensibly because Jesus failed to do mighty works for them as he had done for others. Deep inside though, I think they understood that he was right. They didn’t turn to Jesus in faith, they wanted parlor tricks. It wasn’t faith that drove them, but superstition. Do this and I’ll believe. Prove to me you are who you seem to be. After all, we know you, we know your family, why should we accept you? Make this easy for us, tell us what to do and say and think after you work a couple of miracles so we’ll know you are legitimate. Without special signs they could not, would not, believe. That is not faith, that is superstition. I am not denigrating the idea of miracles, miracles have happened, miracles continue to happen, everyday. Miracles don’t happen just to bring about faith, they happen because of faith. How many times did Jesus tell someone that faith had saved them, that faith had cured them? The miracle came about because that person believed. A miracle may lead others to faith, but it only leads there, it is not a substitute for faith. Faith is a gift that God gives each of us, a gift that requires no proof.
Deacon John
Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jan. 31, 2010
1 Cor 12:31—13:13
Lk 4:21-30
Walking is supposed to be a good way of maintaining you health. A good brisk walk can help keep your heart in shape, help maintain your weight, and just generally make you feel better. The good people of Jesus’ native town, shortly after services in the synagogue, invited Jesus to take a short walk, though I doubt it would have done much for his health. It was, indeed a very short walk, just one step, albeit one very long step. They were just a bit upset with him, when he pointed out that a prophet is generally not well received in that prophet’s native place. He pointed out how miracles had been worked, but for outsiders like Naaman. They were upset, ostensibly because Jesus failed to do mighty works for them as he had done for others. Deep inside though, I think they understood that he was right. They didn’t turn to Jesus in faith, they wanted parlor tricks. It wasn’t faith that drove them, but superstition. Do this and I’ll believe. Prove to me you are who you seem to be. After all, we know you, we know your family, why should we accept you? Make this easy for us, tell us what to do and say and think after you work a couple of miracles so we’ll know you are legitimate. Without special signs they could not, would not, believe. That is not faith, that is superstition. I am not denigrating the idea of miracles, miracles have happened, miracles continue to happen, everyday. Miracles don’t happen just to bring about faith, they happen because of faith. How many times did Jesus tell someone that faith had saved them, that faith had cured them? The miracle came about because that person believed. A miracle may lead others to faith, but it only leads there, it is not a substitute for faith. Faith is a gift that God gives each of us, a gift that requires no proof.
Deacon John
Fourth Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jan. 31, 2010
Sunday, January 17, 2010
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Is 62:1-5
1 Cor 12:4-11
Jn 2:1-11
There was a wedding feast in a place called Cana, and the wine was running low, real low. Mary turns to her son, tells him of this predicament, and he, after initially balking, does as his mother asks. Even in the face of his refusal, Mary turns to the servers and tells them, “Do whatever he tells you.” Mary gives what may be the best advice in all the Scripture, “Do whatever he tells you.” Jesus instructs the servers to fill the jugs meant to hold water for ceremonial washing to the brim with water. They do, and then again follow Jesus’ instructions and draw out the water now made wine, take it to the chief steward, who proclaims it the best wine yet. Those servers did what was asked of them without knowing the outcome of their actions, without knowing if what they were doing would matter, make any difference. They simply followed Mary’s advice and did whatever Jesus told them. Mary started this whole chain of events by asking Jesus for help, and then telling the servers to follow him. The servers had no idea what would happen, but trusted that following Jesus would lead to good. That advice that Mary gave then is good for us as well. “Do whatever he tells you.” What the Christ tells us is to love, to care about the other, to live unselfishly, to give. We may not always know the outcome of following that advice. We may give of ourselves and not see the results, but that doesn’t mean what we do has no effect. We may never see the results of the good we attempt to do, but we must do it anyway. When we love, when we live as Christ asks, we touch people, we make a difference though that difference may never be known to us. The servers followed Mary’s advice and did as Jesus asked even though they did not know what would happen. We may never see the results of what we do, but we should listen and follow Mary’s advice as well, and do whatever he asks.
Deacon John
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jan 17, 2010
1 Cor 12:4-11
Jn 2:1-11
There was a wedding feast in a place called Cana, and the wine was running low, real low. Mary turns to her son, tells him of this predicament, and he, after initially balking, does as his mother asks. Even in the face of his refusal, Mary turns to the servers and tells them, “Do whatever he tells you.” Mary gives what may be the best advice in all the Scripture, “Do whatever he tells you.” Jesus instructs the servers to fill the jugs meant to hold water for ceremonial washing to the brim with water. They do, and then again follow Jesus’ instructions and draw out the water now made wine, take it to the chief steward, who proclaims it the best wine yet. Those servers did what was asked of them without knowing the outcome of their actions, without knowing if what they were doing would matter, make any difference. They simply followed Mary’s advice and did whatever Jesus told them. Mary started this whole chain of events by asking Jesus for help, and then telling the servers to follow him. The servers had no idea what would happen, but trusted that following Jesus would lead to good. That advice that Mary gave then is good for us as well. “Do whatever he tells you.” What the Christ tells us is to love, to care about the other, to live unselfishly, to give. We may not always know the outcome of following that advice. We may give of ourselves and not see the results, but that doesn’t mean what we do has no effect. We may never see the results of the good we attempt to do, but we must do it anyway. When we love, when we live as Christ asks, we touch people, we make a difference though that difference may never be known to us. The servers followed Mary’s advice and did as Jesus asked even though they did not know what would happen. We may never see the results of what we do, but we should listen and follow Mary’s advice as well, and do whatever he asks.
Deacon John
Second Sunday in Ordinary Time
Jan 17, 2010
Sunday, January 03, 2010
The Epiphany of the Lord
Is 60:1-6
Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6
Mt 2:1-12
Today’s Gospel starts with this statement, When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews?
We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” Which leads to the question, why? Why did Magi, Wiseman, kings, come from a distant land to the east to pay homage to the newborn king of the Jews? Why would they care? Were they just being polite?
This time of year we see the return of light, physical light, to the world. In our hemisphere days are getting longer, the sun rises a bit earlier and sets a bit later. When the sun shines it does not shine only on a particular place, or a particular people, the sun shines for everyone. At Christmas we celebrated the rising of the Son, the dawn of a new light, a light not meant only for a few, but for all. The Magi came to pay homage to the Christ, not because he was the newborn king of the Jews, but because he is the newborn king of all. They were drawn by the light, the light of the Son, a light that, just as the physical sun does, shines on everyone. They came to make known to the world that this newborn king is king of all, they came to open the eyes of all people to the light of the Son, the light that clears away the darkness and guides us home.
Deacon John
The Epiphany of the Lord
Jan. 3, 2010
Eph 3:2-3a, 5-6
Mt 2:1-12
Today’s Gospel starts with this statement, When Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, in the days of King Herod, behold, magi from the east arrived in Jerusalem, saying, “Where is the newborn king of the Jews?
We saw his star at its rising and have come to do him homage.” Which leads to the question, why? Why did Magi, Wiseman, kings, come from a distant land to the east to pay homage to the newborn king of the Jews? Why would they care? Were they just being polite?
This time of year we see the return of light, physical light, to the world. In our hemisphere days are getting longer, the sun rises a bit earlier and sets a bit later. When the sun shines it does not shine only on a particular place, or a particular people, the sun shines for everyone. At Christmas we celebrated the rising of the Son, the dawn of a new light, a light not meant only for a few, but for all. The Magi came to pay homage to the Christ, not because he was the newborn king of the Jews, but because he is the newborn king of all. They were drawn by the light, the light of the Son, a light that, just as the physical sun does, shines on everyone. They came to make known to the world that this newborn king is king of all, they came to open the eyes of all people to the light of the Son, the light that clears away the darkness and guides us home.
Deacon John
The Epiphany of the Lord
Jan. 3, 2010
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