Feast of Love

Posted on March 30, 2025 by Elizabeth Richardson

Lent 4C, March 30, 2025. The Very Rev. Pamela L. Werntz

Joshua 5:9-12. The Lord said to Joshua, ‘Today I have rolled away from you the disgrace of Egypt.”
2 Corinthians 5:16-21. So we are ambassadors for Christ, since God is making his [sic] appeal through us.
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32. Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling.

O God of mercy, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.

I’m not going to ask for a show of hands, but I wonder how many of you ever complained about someone else’s bad behavior? (I have, too.) I wonder when you complained, did you want an answer? (I have, too.) I think it’s important to know that Jesus tells this story of the man who had two sons in response to the complaint that Jesus welcomes sinners. The story is part of Jesus’ answer to others complaining about his habit (or practice) of hanging out with people who behave badly. The complainers, according to Luke, were some of Jesus’ colleagues. And the complaint was that Jesus welcomed sinners, people who were dangerously out of step with the well-being of the community, people who were unclean, unethical, unlawful, just plain gross. Not only did Jesus welcome them, he even ate with them. Simply put, the complaint was, that’s foolish, that’s not right, and, for those who were jealous, that’s not fair. Continue reading →

Respond in love!

Posted on February 16, 2025 by Elizabeth Richardson

Epiphany 6C. 16 February 2025. The Very Rev. Pamela L. Werntz

Jeremiah 17:5-10. Iin the year of the drought it is not anxious and it does not cease to bear fruit.
1 Corinthians 15:12-20. The first fruits of those who have died.
Luke 6:17-26. Blessed…blessed…blessed….blessed…woe….woe…woe…woe.

O God of healing, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.

Last week we heard the story about what happened when Simon Peter let Jesus use his boat to demonstrate an improbable abundance of fish caught by going deep in broad daylight! Last week Jesus told Peter and his friends that he would show them how to catch people. Somehow that sounded so good, according to Luke, that they left everything and followed Jesus. When Jesus then healed a man of leprosy, crowds started to show up wherever he went in the hope that they, too, could be healed. Luke writes that Jesus would withdraw to deserted places and pray. One day he healed a paralyzed man whose friends had lowered him through the roof, because that was the only way to get close to him. Luke reports, “Amazement seized all of them, and they glorified God and were filled with awe saying, ‘We have seen strange things today!'” Kind of reminds me of church!

When Jesus invited a tax collector named Levi to follow him, Levi gave a great banquet with a large crowd of tax collectors sitting at the table with them, which caused quite a stir among people with higher standards for dining companions. As controversy grew around Jesus’ healings and teachings, folks got mad enough to want to shut him down. “Now during those days,” Luke writes, “Jesus went out to the mountain to pray” all night, “and when day came, he called his disciples and chose twelve of them whom he also named apostles.” It was a motley crew for sure, and apparently not everyone made the team of apostles because he drew from a great crowd of disciples. (Remember, disciples are learners; apostles are learners who are sent out to teach and heal.) Did he choose the most capable, the most diverse, or only the ones who had nothing left to lose? Did the ones who didn’t get selected feel regret or relief? Dread or excitement? Probably a little of both. We don’t know.

Now you’re up to speed about the context for Jesus’ teaching about blessings and woes. One thing I want you to notice right away in today’s Gospel reading is that Jesus was addressing this teaching to “the great crowd of his disciples;” and he was addressing them directly. “You who are poor, you who are hungry, you who are weeping, you who are excluded, reviled, and defamed for humanity’s sake (which is another way of understanding the term Son of Man). And you who are rich, you who are full, you who are laughing, you who are well-spoken of.” They, too, were in the crowd of disciples or learners that Jesus is teaching. That reminds me of church, too!

I also want you to notice that Luke doesn’t spiritualize poverty; he’s talking about access to tangible resources: money, food, clothing, and shelter. Nor does he glorify poverty, hunger, sorrow, or being reviled and excluded. Rather than writing about life after death, he is writing about life before death. Remember Luke is the one who wrote about the early Jesus-following communities, which shared money and other resources in common so that each gave according to their ability and each received according to their need. That’s how living and leaning into the Realm of God or the Rule of Love works, according to Luke.

Taking a little further the idea that the crowd was a mixture of rich and poor, full and hungry, laughing and weeping, included and excluded, I think maybe every person had aspects of blessing and aspects of woe within themselves. I hear the Luke beatitudes as descriptions of needing the Holy One versus relying on one’s own strength; I hear them as descriptions of needing one another versus relying on one’s own strength.

Jesus looked at his disciples and declared God’s blessing on them for being poor, hungry, bereft, excluded, and defamed for his sake. It’s a peculiar honor. I hear Jesus saying, “God bless you for getting into this with me.” You who are poor, yours is the realm of God. (Not in the future, but right now.) You will be fed, experience joy, and experience the heaven of God, which is another way to say shalom, deep peace, or well-being. God bless you for putting everything on the line. And there’s trouble ahead to you who are rich and full, scoffing at the naïveté or laughing at the foolishness of practicing loving kindness to the point of poverty and hunger, sorrow, and slander. You will not experience the true joy of the realm of God unless or until you engage in extreme generosity and get in touch with your own need for God and one another. Jesus was speaking to everyone who would listen. That’s good news for us because we certainly are among the disciples now who are being challenged by Luke’s critique of wealth that is not used for the benefit of the community, so that each gives according to ability and each receives according to need.

Theologian Mark Davis describes the Luke beatitudes as describing the difference between is and ought. [1] How there is a yawning gap between over-resourced and under-resourced, even in the same crowd, and how there ought to be no gap at all. Unfortunately, our lectionary cuts the reading off in his mid-thought. Jesus said:

Woe to you when all speak well of you, but I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you….be children of the Most high who is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful just as God is merciful.

In other words, even when you are on the receiving end of the bad behavior of others because of your faithfulness to the Love of God, respond with Love. And when others are on the receiving end of bad behavior, be merciful just as God is merciful.

It’s Love that made the early Church a most powerful resistor to the oppression and cruelty of the empire. Indeed, today when the Church is functioning at our best, we serve as a bold alternative to authoritarianism as we live into our strong alternative models of community and governance. When we are functioning at our best, we are providing for those in need in ways that are life-giving and liberating for both the givers and the receivers. We are living our best lives in the kingdom of God (aka realm of Love) when we do not confuse wealth, happiness, joy, or popularity with blessings, but understand that the blessings are in the practice of sharing with generosity, compassion, and integrity.

It occurs to me that while Jesus was addressing his followers, there were others within earshot, those from the multitudes who were seeking healing. It occurs to me that maybe we are really not so different at Emmanuel Church: part apostles, part disciples, part not identifying as Jesus followers but seeking welcome, which is a form of healing. Often we come to church somewhat depleted – emotionally, physically and spiritually. Often we come to church fearful, angry, and betrayed by some circumstance, institution, or person in our lives. Sometimes we aren’t fully conscious of our depletion, our fear, our anger, or our hurt. As a crowd (even a small one) we come with varying degrees of awareness about our own unclean spirits or our own dis-ease. Maybe we come out of habit; maybe we are curious; maybe we hope to hear a good word or spectacular music, receive a warm embrace, have the chance to be quiet, have the chance to be heard, or get something to eat or drink; maybe we hope to make a connection with the Divine, with ourselves, with others. Whatever our hope, we all need healing for our bodies and souls.

It also occurs to me that when a crowd (even a small crowd) of people with unclean spirits and dis-ease get together, there’s bound to be discomfort caused by competing or conflicting needs and depleted resources. Then I think, “Welcome to the Church!” We are a motley crew maybe not so different from the first ragtag bunches of people who were first drawn to the healing power of Jesus. And if you arrived at church hoping that either you are the only one with needs to be met, or that no-one else has needs that you will be asked to meet, you may be in for a rough morning.

But if you arrived at church hoping for a chance to give thanks to God for all the many ways that you have been blessed, and looking for opportunities to share those blessings, then you are in luck! This will be a good morning for you! Give thanks to God that you were able to get here at all. If you are able to sit in a pew in this lovely worship space on this snowy day, give thanks to God. If you are able to access this worship service on line in a place that is warm and dry, give thanks to God. If you are able to breathe unassisted, give thanks to God. If you are able to stand and to walk, give thanks to God. If you are able to move and feel your hands and your feet, give thanks to God. If you are able to see, hear, taste, smell, or use any or all of those senses, give thanks to God. Now notice who else is in the room or online. Give thanks to God that you are not the only one here this morning either physically or virtually. If you are able to offer your hand to another in Peace, give thanks to God. If you hunger for the bread and wine of communion, give thanks to God for your hunger and thirst. Or if you desire a blessing, give thanks to God for your desire.

As far as I can tell, giving thanks to God is the beginning of healing. And giving thanks to God in the midst of a crowd (even a small one and even if you give thanks in silence) begins a healing process in you and in everyone around you. Giving thanks is what replenishes our depleted selves – our emotionally, physically, and spiritually depleted selves. Giving thanks to God calms our fears, assuages our anger, provides forgiveness sufficient for the betrayals. Thanksgiving purifies our unclean spirits and heals our dis-ease. Thanksgiving is a sacrifice, because we have to release our hold on our dis-ease and our self-sufficiency. We will have to let go of our incapacitating anxiety and our playing too big or too small. We will have to open our hands and our hearts for healing and acknowledge the truth of our belovedness, becoming needy for the sake of the realm of God. Giving thanks is a powerful way to move from seeker and learner to teacher and healer. The promise of our scripture and our tradition is that the reward of our sacrifice of thanksgiving will dwarf whatever the cost. Offer to God, today, a sacrifice of thanksgiving and respond in Love, no matter what.

D. Mark Davis, www.leftbehindandlovingit.blogspot.com.

The abundance is all around us.

Posted on February 9, 2025 by Elizabeth Richardson

Epiphany 5C, 9 February 2025. The Very Rev. Pamela L. Werntz

Isaiah 6:1-8 [9-13]. Keep listening but do not comprehend.
1 Corinthians 15:1-11. Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me.
Luke 5:1-11. Put out into the deep water.

O God of the deep, grant us the strength, the wisdom and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may, and cost what it will.

Our Gospel lesson for this week is the story about the day when Simon, James, and John decided to walk away from their night jobs, the day they decided to leave everything to follow Jesus, according to Luke. Just before this, Luke tells us that Jesus went down to Capernaum, a town on the shore of the lake of Gennesaret (also known as the Sea of Galilee), where he had been teaching. Jesus had exorcised an unclean spirit from among the people, and he had healed Simon’s mother-in-law by rebuking her high fever! He had been healing all kinds of diseases by laying his hands on sick people. Large crowds had begun to follow him wherever he went. In fact, even when he went to an isolated place to get away for a bit, Luke tells us that the crowds came looking for him; and when they got to him, they tried to keep him from leaving them.

One time, Luke says, Jesus was standing along the shore, and the crowd was pressing in on him. They were desperate to hear what he had to say, hungry for the word of God. Do you remember what he was teaching? He was proclaiming God’s favor for those who were poor, pardon for those imprisoned, and freedom for those who were oppressed. So we can be sure that this crowd was full of people who were hungry and bone-tired, distressed and diseased, and down and out. The story goes that Jesus climbed into a boat to get space between himself and the pressing crowd, then he taught for a while a little way out from the shore. He’d used Simon’s boat as a platform, a wobbly stage, while Simon and the others were washing their nets. I imagine that Simon, having worked all night and caught nothing. was hungry and tired, too. When Jesus finished teaching, rather than thanking Simon and sending him home for a meal and a rest, he instructed him to put out again into the deep and let down the nets for a catch (the same nets that had just been put away).

Now this is a crazy idea on at least two levels. The first is that the fishermen have just come back in, presumably having tried everything during the night to catch fish. (Nighttime is when fishing happens there because in the daytime the fish can see and avoid the nets). They’ve just washed their nets. Going back out is a lot of work, and fishing in the daytime on Lake Gennesaret is just dumb. The next level of craziness is the idea of going into the deep, because the deep represents chaos. Put out into the deep, the chaos, Jesus is saying, in broad daylight, where everyone can see how foolish you are.

Simon Peter does not refuse, but he does signal his characteristic reluctance to believe that Jesus knows what he’s talking about. They then catch more fish than they can handle in a classic case of “Be careful what you wish for.” Exhaustion, chaos, and frightful excess – enough to sink a boat. I can just see Jesus smiling and saying, “You weren’t expecting that, were you?” But if exhaustion, chaos, and excess are what happen when we let Jesus instruct us on how to do our jobs, many of us would (and do) demur. No wonder Peter responds, “Go away from me because I am sinful. I don’t deserve or have any idea what to do with this kind of abundance.” Jesus’ response is: “No worries, I’ll show you.”

And then, according to Luke, Simon Peter and the sons of Zebedee James and John, left everything to follow Jesus. I don’t know about you, but I find considerable irony in their walking away after their most miraculous catch of all time. I can imagine walking away from a failing business, when there’s nothing left to lose. I actually have walked away from a position in a company that was doing immoral work, more than once. But this is a story of walking away from winning a jackpot catch of fish, that salted and preserved, would have provided sustenance for family and friends with more to export. In Luke, Jesus doesn’t say, “Follow me”; he says, “From now on you’ll be catching people”; and they left everything and followed him.

You know, the story of this catch is told as a post-resurrection story in the Gospel of John. Some New Testament scholars postulate that either Luke took a well-known post-resurrection story and placed it toward the beginning of his narrative; or John took a well-known beginning story and placed it at the end of his narrative to signal new beginning. This debate reminds me that none of us can really ever know what happened, or what any of it meant before the disciples experienced the radical and abundant new life given to them in the years after Jesus’ crucifixion. Every experience got remembered and reinterpreted, told and written down after their experiences of resurrection, in some cases generations after. Once Jesus’ followers experienced the radical and abundant new life given to them after Jesus’ crucifixion it changed everything!. Everyone who had a Gospel story to tell told the details differently. As you know, I love the theological elbow room that gets created by those kinds of differences.

The question for me is always, what does scripture have to say to us that might make a difference in the way we enact love in our lives? (Enacting love is a Biblical understanding of doing justice.) What might we learn today to apply to our own lives, as individuals and as a parish? How might this scripture help us to better live the words we pray? Here’s some advice that I’ve gleaned from this Gospel lesson in Luke. You may have heard it before, but since it’s my advice, I think it’s worth repeating! It’s advice I follow, and I highly recommend it to you.

Let Jesus use your boat, that is, your livelihood, primary resource, mode of transportation, shelter from the storm, and sanctuary. Let Jesus use your boat to proclaim and enact God’s favor for those who are poor, freedom for those who are imprisoned or oppressed, healing and recovery for those who are diseased. Let Jesus use your boats even and maybe especially when you think that you know more than Jesus does about what’s realistic in your context, what’s sensible, or what’s possible (and what is not) when it comes to alleviating suffering.
Whenever you feel as though you’ve been laboring in vain, get back out there and go deeper into the chaos; do something foolish in plain sight for the love of Jesus Christ. I often repeat a story that Bishop Barbara Harris told me about when as a recently ordained priest she went to see an important mentor of hers. She sat down in his office and said, “I am sick to death of teaching white people about racism. I’m done. I’m not doing it any more.” And he said to her, “You’re not done. You’re never going to be done. Get back out there.” I think about that every time I feel tired of teaching people (out there) about sexism, heterosexism, transphobia, or the case for reparations in the church. I also think about it when people who do not have the privilege or access to power I have challenge me to examine and check my own biases and assumptions, complicities and complacencies, or small views about what is possible. But the most important thing about this Gospel advice is, don’t go alone and do observe Sabbath. Then get back out there, taking a witness, being a witness. Gospel ministry is collaborative; go deep.
Remember that when and whenever you/we experience abundance, there’s a catch!. (Get it?) There’s always a catch, and here it is. We are obligated to share the abundance. When we experience abundance, we are called to gather people around us, people who need relief from hunger, disease, imprisonment, or oppression; and show them the abundance of grace. When Simon Peter, James, and John walked away from their business after a haul of fish that threatened to sink their boats, what do you think happened to all that fish? I bet it fed that big crowd on the shore and then some. In the version of this story in John’s Gospel, when the miraculous catch had been hauled in, Jesus asked three times “Simon Peter, do you love me?” And three times Simon Peter answered, “Yes, Lord”. Each time, Jesus replied, “Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.” It doesn’t get any clearer than that.

Based on my own experience, I don’t think there is a reason any of us could give that would persuade the Source of All Being that we can’t share more of our abundance or enact more love. The Bible is chock-full of stories of the Almighty calling on the least-qualified people to enact Love’s impractical or impossible work: to sing impossible songs ,pray impossible prayers, and walk impossible paths. We heard three such stories this morning. Isaiah is a man of unclean lips living among a people who have unclean lips. Paul says, “He is the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because he persecuted the church of God.” Simon Peter says, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful person.” Moving beyond our reluctance and making those connections, we are called to invite people to experience the abundance of God’s grace in this community. The abundance is all around us.

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Thirst

Posted on March 12, 2023 by Elizabeth Richardson

Lent 3A, 12 March 2023. The Very Rev. Pamela L. Werntz

Exodus 17:1-7. The people thirsted there.
Romans 5:1-11. God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit.
John 4:5-42. Give me a drink.

O God of water and thirst, grant us the strength, the wisdom, and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth, come when it may and cost what it will.

One theme for the day that I hear in our scripture readings is thirst. Maybe you know Mary Oliver’s poem called “Thirst,” in her book by the same name. [1] When I first read the poem, I heard it in Mary Oliver’s voice; this time around the I hear two voices in dialogue. The first part of the poem seems like the voice of the Samaritan woman. Continue reading →

Emmanuel Church in the City of Boston

Believing is not a condition of beloving or belonging here.

Join us for Episcopal worship Sundays at 10:00am.