THE REV. E. WAYNE ROLLINS

​ It has been said that we see things not as they are, but as we are. That’s often true. Often we look again and see something we did not see before. Artists are good at causing this to happen. If you want a more contemporary cultural example, there are those puzzles that appeared at the end of Mad Magazine. 

I wonder what would happen if we could or even tried to see things, including ourselves, the way God sees them? 

I like to think that I’m getting a “God’s eye view” when flying long distances at a high altitude. I know I’m a bit closer to some birds than some consider God’s location to be. But since I’m unlikely to get frequent flyer miles on the International Space Station, I’ll take what I can get. 

The role of a biblical prophet is to help us see ourselves as God sees us. That can be very different from what we want to see in the mirror. But this is a first step in any form of ministry, whether it be with those gathered around us this day or at any place else we might go. 

It’s a first step because we must see ourselves as God sees us before we are able to see others as God sees them. Our self-serving, perhaps self-inflating images may actually impede ministry, especially to others. If you’ve been involved in any twelve-step program, you’ll recognize that. Step one is admitting our helplessness, while step two is admitting that we need someone, or something, more powerful to lead us—to minister to us--in order to heal, however that occurs. 

One of the first things we learn in Clinical Pastoral Education, or the training of chaplains, is that we need to leave at the threshold those parts of ourselves that get in the way of doing real ministry. To use spiritual terms found in scripture, we must empty ourselves to make room for the Holy Spirit to fill us with God’s redemptive presence. Leave the ego and its assumptions outside. They’ll wait for a more opportune time. 

The words we’ve heard over the past few weeks from Amos, Hosea, Micah, Isaiah, and today, Jeremiah, serve to alert Israel to how God sees them in their current way of life. They refuse, except for perhaps only a few, to see themselves in the same way, and by doing so separate themselves from God, despite warnings and admonitions. God ultimately accepts that separation. At least for a generation or so. 

There may be a time in each of our lives when we’ve found we need to separate ourselves from those who refuse God’s image of themselves and others. I found that reluctance, or the lack of alternatives to be an impediment to healing while doing social work with addicts and victims of abuse. Many entered voluntary or forced treatment, only to be returned to the same relationships where the addiction or abuse flourished because while treatment may have been provided, no work was done with former associates or to provide a different, safer place to begin a new life.

Like I said, the former way was waiting for a more opportune time. If that phrase sounds familiar, read the accounts of Jesus’ temptation in the wilderness. Then remember who it is doing the waiting.

So let’s ponder in our hearts how God might truly see us, assuming that God hasn’t already decided to look elsewhere for the image God looks for in the presence of the Holy Spirit among us. That is the possibility we must always consider, and not take for granted that attendance and offerings, an occasional good deed, or even receiving the sacraments ensures that image.

One way I’ve found helpful is to ask the question, “Where is God in this?” Whether it’s a planned event or a looming decision, I think it’s important to keep that in mind. That reminds me of a cartoon I once saw on the administrator’s desk in a parish where a friend once worked. The congregation is gathered and the priest presents a proposal with the words, “It has the support of the Vestry, the Bishop, the Standing Committee and we believe it to be God’s will. Any questions?”

I would want to say, “Really?”

Ministry is not our way of repaying God for our salvation. Rather, the evidence of our salvation is our participation in the ministry God gives us to do, which is to proclaim—and be—the presence of the divine in a human form that others not only understand, but find the desire to join.

What does that mean for us? Given recent news we’ve shared with the parish regarding finances, it’s important that we have these discussions. How we do that will be an ongoing process. In the meantime, invite through prayer and reflection (an important word in many ways) the true image of God, and how God views the images we present. Then, pray for the answer to my previous question. Where is God in all this?
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I’m looking forward to hearing your answers.

THE REV. E. WAYNE ROLLINS

From time-to-time it’s important to step back and reflect on some important questions. I’ll begin by stating them, then try to provide some possible answers. 

The first one was asked by Jesus. “What are you looking for?” This is how the NRSV translates John 1:38. The question is somewhat related to another. “Why are we here?” But the answer to each can be very different from the other. I’ll take them in reverse order. 
When it comes to gathering for worship, our answer might be “this is what we do at this time on Sunday morning, and this is where we do it.” Another might be, “I’m a member here, so here I am.” We might even claim (or assume) certain rights and privileges in our answer, or point to some responsibilities that come along with physical presence. 

When Jesus asks the question, those near him look for the promised Messiah, and they follow John the Baptist’s teaching. In particular, these folks ask where Jesus is staying. Perhaps they want to learn more, but a mind influenced by current events might wonder if there’s an ulterior motive or a more nefarious reason. 

Jesus answers them by saying “come and see.” He expects them to commit to spending some time in conversation and witness so they can discern for themselves whether he is the one they seek. That is going to take more than an hour one morning each week, assuming they stick around at all. 

A second question seems to rise from our culture. We operate in a works righteousness economy, where you get paid for the work you do. At least, that’s what it is on the surface. Discrepancies occur (still) that relate to differences of gender, race, and other factors not really related to ability. The question is also more personal. “What do I get out of it?” 

For several decades I’ve received materials and comments that focus on what’s referred to as a “worship experience.” I heard it once in an ecumenical clergy gathering, and said that I always thought that it was God who was supposed to have a good worship experience. One older priest nodded, while most of the others didn’t seem to have considered my point. Another time I was accused of “not making us feel good about ourselves.” I don’t remember if it was that Advent Sunday where John calls the Pharisees a brood of vipers, but there are occasional reminders of that verse. And sometimes there are those who seem to follow the wine of communion with the whine of disappointment. 


My third question is, I believe, most important, yet is one that doesn’t get a lot of discussion. “What have we got?” 

​I’m not talking about buildings and programs or financial resources. I’m taking my cue from today’s Epistle lesson, which follows up on those from the last two Sundays. It’s helpful to take some time and read from the beginning of chapter eleven of Hebrews through today’s chapter. To answer this question, we also have to admit what we don’t have.

When Israel stood before Mt. Sinai, the earth trembled, the heavens roared, and smoke rose from the mountain. It must have felt like getting an up close and personal view of an active volcano just before it erupts. They were rightly afraid of getting closer, and they begged Moses to intercede for them so they might continue living. The rest of Hebrew scripture is a chronicle and commentary on how that relationship worked out once the mountain was in the rearview mirror.

With the incarnation of Jesus, things take a different turn. Now, instead of a law book and threats of punishment, God decides to draw us in by becoming one of us. Instead of a long slog toward a city in which God dwells, that spiritual place of our lives—God’s dwelling—is given to us, to be an intimate part of who we are. It not only becomes where we live, it in itself becomes incarnate as the source of our very lives.

You see, what we have is a God who loves us enough to share life with us. We have a God who is content to sit back and watch us enjoy the abundance of life that reminds us of God’s presence surrounding us. We also have a God who shows up and often speaks to us in times of trouble and chaos, sometimes whispering “peace, be still,” and sometimes asking “what are you doing here?”

We have a God whom we can approach with our worries and pains and scars, and who can reach out and fill us with new life despite the frailties of our self-offerings. And, we have a God who often does many of these things, and much more, through those who approach in fear and trembling, but have found the very things we seek becoming true for themselves.

And so, to answer a previous question, we are here to somehow embody this transcendent God who chooses to be one of us so that we might finally approach the mercy and grace that reaches out to us. We are here to faithfully do what God has done by reaching out to offer that same mercy and grace that transcends fear of oppression or rejection, because the blood shed on the cross flows through the veins and arteries of our life together as God’s people.
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In this way, our lives join together to proclaim the only words that have given life to the church for two millennia. Alleluia. Christ is risen. All the rest is commentary. Keep in mind—an individual, or a parish, that fears its own death might have difficulty proclaiming those words. But like the first time they were heard, God gives us strength to do more than just say them. God gives us the strength, God’s own presence, found in their truth so we might live them.

THE REV. E. WAYNE ROLLINS

  Today’s readings give us a smorgasbord of choices that range from my having to say “don’t make any plans before Tuesday” and “Jesus, I really wish you hadn’t said that.” 

Then I remember something I learned in elementary math class. Reduce to the lowest common denominator. Or, for a more adult process, take all the ingredients and distill the mix until you get the pure essence. It could be pleasing, it could be bitter, depending on the mix and the botanicals added from our own experiences. 

At the heart of today’s lessons is something beyond any one of us, something that can be found in the larger mix of us, yet remains outside of us. That something is truth. As we were told a quarter of a century ago, truth is not always pleasing, nor is it always convenient.
But instead of calling it what it is, we deny truth by attacking the messenger, choosing instead to offer self-serving “alternative facts” to serve up something more pleasing to our own ears. Satan never had it so easy. 

Take a look at an event in the life of Jacob, son of Isaac, grandson of Abraham. One night, while trying to sleep before meeting the brother he deceived many years before, he had a dream. In that dream, he wrestled with a heavenly being, a struggle that went on and on through the night. Finally, that being delivered a blow that caused Jacob’s hip socket to displace, and in pain he gave up. 

He was given a new name after that. Israel. It means “strives with God.” Then he limped his way to his family reunion with Esau, and, despite his fears, survived to tell the tale. After all, once you’ve wrestled with God, what’s a bit of sibling rivalry? 

It’s that name, Israel, that matters more. It carries the same promise grandpa Abe heard. Your descendants will be like the stars. I will be your God, and you will be my people. Not a country, but a people. 

By the time of Isaiah, those people, collectively under leadership they willingly followed, forgot that promise. So, God decided to let them face the consequences of their choices. God’s protection against invading enemies will be removed. Their country, so to speak, will face destruction, the people, the result. 

Just to get back to the inconvenient part, read today’s first lesson again, substituting “United States of America” for Israel and Judah. I really like reading and studying the prophets. I hate having to be one. Doing that might feel like hearing the words “I came to bring fire to the earth, and how I wish it were already kindled” from the one we refer to as The Prince of Peace. 

Fire does many things. It provides warmth, it changes items we cook with it. It purifies, eliminating bacteria, viruses, even minerals in metal production. And, it destroys by reducing many forms of matter to ash.

The prophet Malachi tells of this. God speaks through the prophet to say, “I will send my messenger, who will prepare the way before me. Then suddenly the Lord you are seeking will come to his temple; the messenger of the covenant, whom you desire, will come,” says the Lord Almighty.

But who can endure the day of his coming? Who can stand when he appears? For he will be like a refiner’s fire or a launderer’s soap. He will sit as a refiner and purifier of silver; he will purify the Levites and refine them like gold and silver. Then the Lord will have [a people] who will bring offerings in righteousness, and the offerings of Judah and Jerusalem will be acceptable to the Lord, as in days gone by, as in former years.

“So I will come to put you on trial. I will be quick to testify against sorcerers, adulterers and perjurers, against those who defraud laborers of their wages, who oppress the widows and the fatherless, and deprive the foreigners among you of justice, but do not fear me,” says the Lord Almighty. [Mal. 3:1-5, NIV]

Jesus is that messenger, the one who comes as a refiner. His life embodies the teaching and will of God, naming the impurities of our time. The Word made Flesh stands as the fire of truth sent to cleanse us from all that separates us from true worship of our Creator. The division he mentions comes when those accepting Truth, capitol T, find themselves opposed by those holding to alternative facts, capitol L for lies. I’ll admit that holding to the Truth is sometimes like Jacob wrestling with God, and can be a pain you know where.

But like those in the roll call that is the eleventh chapter of the letter to the Hebrews, it is in Truth that we find not just life, but the author of life, who finds great delight in sharing that life, everlasting life, with us as a people, not only as individuals. Like those named, the fulness of that life is found together, including with those who come after us.
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As John’s Gospel tells us, it is in the One who described himself as “the Way, the Truth, the Life” that we find all those things for ourselves and for each other. In holding faithfully, truthfully to the teachings of Jesus of Nazareth, we might find ourselves needing a bit of purification from time to time. Better now than later.

THE REV. E. WAYNE ROLLINS

“Fear not, little flock, for it is the Father’s good pleasure to give you the
kingdom.” These words of Jesus are meant to instill hope and relieve anxiety as he
“sets his face toward Jerusalem.” His followers, his “little flock,” have a pretty good
idea of what awaits him, and maybe them, when they get there.

The phrase “fear not” is said to appear in some form in scripture 365 times.
Personally, I haven’t counted, so I’ll take the words of others as true. That means you
get to be afraid once every four years, unless it’s at the turn of the century, when there is
no leap year. Maybe leap day is the one day every four years when God goes fishing.

There are legitimate reasons to be afraid. But many times we allow fear to
overwhelm us and prevent us from finding a way through a difficult time. You know,
maybe if we don’t say it out loud then it won’t be true sort of thing. Acting in response
to fear is one way to ensure our fears actually come to fruition, because they can be at
the very heart of our decision-making process.

In one way, fear can be the opposite of faith, or might even become a substitute
faith. Fear might be a sign that we’ve lost faith in God, especially when we work to
overcome fear by ways that diminish life, whether it be our own or for others. Fear can
be a manipulator, a way others use to cause us to bend to their will. It has been an
effective tool for winning many elections.

Fear can also cause us to forget the next part of Jesus’ sentence. “It is the Father’s
good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Not just “good pleasure,” but Luke’s words
mean “great delight.” Think about those times when you’ve given a gift to someone
who expresses surprise or joy in receiving it. It makes you want to do it again, even if
you want to take some pride in your altruism. Take a little time later on to ponder the
humble joy of being altruistic. Go ahead. Feel a bit of what God feels in the gift of grace
toward us.

So, you might ask, and even if you didn’t, just what is this “kingdom” God wants
to give us?

It seems to depend on our understanding of the word “basileian,” which is the
Greek term Luke uses that is always translated as kingdom. We understand kingdom to
mean a geographical area under the dominion of a king, a person of royal lineage who
by birthright inherits the right and responsibility to rule that area. Most recently, we’ve
witnessed the transition from Queen Elizabeth II in England to King Charles III, her
oldest son. His oldest son, William, will succeed him, and his son, George, will follow
suit.

1Greek literature traces the meaning of basileian to Homer. He uses it to describe
the role of Penelope, the wife of Odysseus, who is gone for twenty years. She rules in
his stead, and her decisions are seen as his own. There are those who think Odysseus is
dead, since he’s been gone for so long, but she denies her suitors and continues to act
faithfully in his name. Eventually he returns home, and finds her faithfulness to be an
everlasting tribute to their fidelity to one another.

Sound familiar? The early Hebrew prophets denounced Israel, and eventually
Judah, as faithless spouses to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. Hosea announces
the infidelity of Israel in graphic terms that in former times would cause much blushing
and cases of “the vapors.” But if you remember the opening words of our marriage rite,
you’ll get the connection. Holy Matrimony, we say, “signifies to us the mystery of the
union between Christ and his Church . . . .”

In the last book of scripture, The Revelation to John, the church is referred to as
the bride of Christ. This expands the description of God’s people found in the Hebrew
prophets, where God asks what caused them to stray and worship other gods, even
though, as God says, “I was their husband.”

So let me put this in contemporary terms. In effect, what Jesus says is that God
wants a faithful companion who will act and live in God’s stead—in God’s name—to
care for all God has created. In more intimate terms, we need to go back to Genesis and
the work of creation, where God breathes into the nostrils of the created human being
and gives it life. That life is part of God’s life, emanating from God’s own being.
So “fear not, little flock, for it is the Father’s pleasure to give you the kingdom”
really means that it is God’s delight, God’s joy, to give us life, and even more than that,
to share God’s life with God’s people. It is God’s delight, God’s joy, to see the people
Isaiah says are named “Mine” living as fully human while also continuing God’s work
of creation, of giving and sharing abundant life, with all that and whom God has
created.

This means that we are engaged in a mission, a people with a purpose that
transcends walls and street addresses and geography. We are engaged in theosis, a term
meaning that in some mystical way, we embody the presence of our Creator. How that
happens is up to God; it is God’s gift to us as a people. We do not become God, but we
remain fully human even though some regard celebrity status as godlike. When we
embody the presence of God, we become engaged in God’s eternal life, right here, right
now. And, to bring us back to earth, so to speak, it is the answer to our familiar prayer,
“your kingdom come.”

In case you’re wondering, that is why we’re here. Our buildings, programs,
liturgies, and everything else, are just commentary on our life with God and our living
interpretation of the life of God, and serve to answer whether our prayers, and our
lives, continue in the faithfulness to our eternal spouse, our husband, our God.
When we live into the fulness of what that means, why, it could be like heaven
on earth.