Sanctuary

This Sunday, October 7, we’ll celebrate St. Francis Day by blessing animals… bring Fido, Fluffy, Polly…. for blessings and prayers.

But our pets are only a part of creation… St. Francis holds up a life dedicated to living in union with the whole earth–creatures, yes, but also our fellow human neighbors, and the type of simple life that allows the whole Earth to flourish. So we’re going to jump into the whole Earth…. beginning with Creation, when we’ll hear from the second creation story in Genesis (Genesis 2:4-17) and then moving along to Jesus, with the “lilies of the field” passage from the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 6:25-34). Jesus connects the simplicity of nature with our desire for more than we need–fancy clothes, fancy food, and what we now know is a lifestyle which is destructive to our planet.

So we’ll be blessing the animals; but also blessing those people and technologies that may yet enable us to live without killing the rest of creation, and repenting for our actions and habits that harm the brothers and sisters of the animals we love so much in our homes.

The vibe last night at Sanctuary was so good… it was refreshing to be back with the band, the community, the music, the prayer… thanks to all who came and see you on October 7 for St. Francis Day, if not before!

Blessings,
Jenn

This week’s reading from Exodus provoked a lot of questions from Isaac… and as usual, when Isaac asks questions, that gets me thinking, too. Moses is reining God in from destroying the Israelites because they’re sacrificing to the golden calf because of how such actions will be perceived by the Egyptians (and no doubt, any Israelites who are left), not because, well, killing whole groups of people is morally bad. And then, after the passage we’re appointed to read, Moses goes out and kills thousands of the Israelites himself, saying that God told him to do it (God didn’t.)

The Violence of God is a subject most progressive Christians (and Jews, and Muslims) want to shy away from. But if you’ve ever really read the Bible–the whole thing–God’s violence is a huge theme… in the Old Testament, God’s smiting various foes is constant; and in the Gospels, the violence of a God who allows his only Son to be crucified can also be seen as problemmatic. So most of us shy away from those sections of scripture, because they make us feel lost, confused, like the God we thought we believed in doesn’t really exist. But does that mean that the God we do believe in (the loving, merciful, prince of peace) is a lie?

Isaac’s question was “Where does your faith lie?”–and hear both meanings in that question. Where does your faith rest–what undergirds it? And also, where does your faith either cause you to lie or where do you believe things that you know are false, but you need to believe them anyway? It’s an intimate question, but any answers here will help us plan the service…

So this week we had our second installment in our summer Elijah series. Instead of a sermon, we asked j. Snodgrass to pen a skit for us which led us into a great discussion. Enjoy!

NABOTH’S VINEYARD
Adapted from 1 Kings 21: 1-24
By j. SNODGRASS

The Cast :
Ahab
Naboth
Jezebel
Elijah
Narrator

Setting : Could be pretty much anywhere. There ought to be an easel with the audience lines written on it.

NARRATOR : Ahab was king of Samaria.

AUDIENCE : A good Samaritan.

NARRATOR : No, more of an evil-David. He disobeyed the Lord, married a Pagan by the name of Jezebel, and allowed her to pollute the Lord’s realm with shrines to Pagan Gods. And from his ivory palace, he would look down on a vineyard owned by Naboth…

NABOTH : (Holding up a bottle of wine) Ah, friend in good-fortune, solace of my afflictions, pride of my ancestors… (Kisses the bottle)

AHAB : Excuse me, I couldn’t help noticing your fine vineyard.

NABOTH : Interested in the wine business?

AHAB : Actually no, but you see it’s near my house, and I was thinking… Well, you see it’s near my house, right?

NABOTH : Oh, you mean that ivory palace over there? Can’t miss it.

AHAB : Right. So I was thinking…wouldn’t it be great?

NABOTH : Sure. What?

AHAB : To burn the vines, trample the grapes, smash the presses, tear up the land and plant a vegetable garden.

NABOTH : Well, that’s…certainly an option I hadn’t looked into before. But this vineyard has been in my family for years, I inherited it from my uncle, Hazor and let me tell you… You didn’t happen to know Hazor, did you?

AHAB : No.

NABOTH : A fat, horrible man with this really high, annoying voice and every day it was “Naboth, there’s a bug on our shirt.” “Naboth, could you crush this grape for us?” He must have…thought he was two people, that’s the way he always referred to himself. “Naboth? Give us a hand with this sandal-strap.” And for twenty-four years I worked for him, and eventually… Well, he couldn’t see his feet ‘cause of his fat belly, so I started elevating one of his sandals, you know, adding a thin strip of leather every night to the left and not the right, till finally after six years his spine cracked and–

AHAB : I assume this story is going somewhere?

NABOTH : I put up with a lot for this vineyard. So I’d like to keep it how it is.

AHAB : But you see I’m prepared to offer you a better vineyard. One with…

NABOTH : …One with..?

AHAB : One with all sorts of things to make your life easier. OR, I’d be glad to give you this vineyard’s value in currency. See look, my face is on all the bills. That’s how you know I’m a king you can trust.

NABOTH : Thanks, but no.

NARRATOR : And Ahab stormed back to his palace…

(more…)

This week, Paul and his buddies get released from prison by a divine earthquake. As mythical as this sounds, it points to something really interesting about salvation from the perspective of the jailer who’s supposed to be keeping them chained up. The jailer’s response after witnessing this divine event is, “What must I do to be saved?”

I think we misunderstand salvation in most churches today. We think we want to be saved from hell, and saved to “heaven.” But what does that mean? What I get out of the Acts lesson is that salvation is freedom and liberation, not sitting on a cloud with a pair of wings. The jailer is already saved by the time he asks the question, because he’s already been freed from his old way of thinking and living.

So how can we enact salvation in our worship? What makes you feel free and liberated? For me, there’s music, certainly. Letting go in a song can be a real experience of freedom. Feeling safe makes me feel free–I can put aside my guardedness and just be myself.

Jenn here, thinking about Sanctuary on May 6.

As often happens in the world, the attitude of Christians towards the book of Revelation is often broken into two camps: Those who think it’s absolutely central, and those who’d rather pretend it’s not there. The authors of the Left Behind series would fall into the first camp, and Martin Luther and (evidently) the guys in Depeche Mode fall into the second. I’m in neither, and really want us to get an opportunity to see what a glorious vision of incarnation is in Revelation. In the passage in the lectionary tonight, it speaks about how God’s home is among mortals, on earth. So it’s not all about escaping earth and gaining entry into heaven, it’s about heaven coming down and creating a new heaven-earth here. Creation is good, and God is loving, present, and in the midst of our lives–not up far away in some distant heaven.

Here’s some of the lyrics to John the Revelator:

John the Revelator
Put him in an elevator
Take him up to the highest high
Take him up to the top where the mountains stop
Let him tell his book of lies

John the Revelator
He’s a smooth operator
It’s time we cut him down to size
Take him by the hand
And put him on the stand
Let us hear his alibis

OK, so every year Palm Sunday comes along, we do a brief blessing of Palms and participation in the entry into Jerusalem (last year at our morning service, we got heckled by people who didn’t want us disrupting their Sunday morning sleep) and then we immediately shift into Good Friday mode, telling the story of the Passion and Crucifixion.

Not so at Sanctuary! At least not this year. We want to give the story of Jesus’ entry into Jerusalem its full weight–it was an important event, and we gloss over it in the traditional liturgy. But we’re having some brain-freeze when it comes to how to make getting our palms more participatory and prayerful. Typically, you just bless them and hand them out. Isaac points out that we should find some way of identifying what it is about Jesus that would make us want to hail him as a king–or not. I wonder about picking up a palm at hte same time as we pick up a nail–we are both the ones who passionately desire a savior AND the ones who crucify him. Give us your ideas!

We will tell the story of the Passion on Good Friday, April 6 between 6 and 9pm (come whenever you want) during out Stations of the Cross service, an incredible meditation on the lives involved in Jesus’ journey from being condemned to being placed in his tomb. (We still have some opportunities for volunteers to come up with Station ideas–e-mail me at reddall at aol.com if you’d like to volunteer). Isaac will have music playing, and you can totally go at your own pace and find your own meaning in the images, music, prayers, and stories.

Read the lessons here, but know that we’re only doing Philippians and the first Gospel from Luke–we’re not moving ahead to the passion.

Jenn here, working on the March 4 service, which will include a Thanksgiving and Blessing for Jackson Snodgrass, born in December to Elizabeth and John Snodgrass. The lessons, interestingly enough, both have visions of family relationships: in Genesis, Abram is promised descendents as numerous as the stars in the sky–God’s promise of fidelity takes the form of children and children’s children. In turn, Abram is expected to teach the faith in the One True God to those successive generations. Then in the Gospel–in an otherwise bleak view of the future–Jesus puts himself in the place of our Mother; a hen trying to gather her chicks under her wings to safety.

We are trying hard in our church (both at Sanctuary and the Episcopal Church in general) to affirm that being a “family” need not entail a man, a woman, and their biological children. We affirm that some people are called to be single, others in unmarried partnerships, others in same-sex relationships, some with children, and some without. None of those ways of life is necessarily better or more gospel-oriented than another. However, none of that takes away from the very real Good of two people who have found one another, married, and brought new life into the world, and we want to celebrate with them.

John and Elizabeth and Isaac have offered some suggestions for music, so expect some Sweet Honey in the Rock and Pink Floyd…

Jenn here–this Sunday we’re hearing the story of the transfiguration (literally the “metamorphosis”) of Jesus. Read it here. What God says, when God speaks out of the cloud, is “Listen to him.” How well do we really listen to Jesus? We talk for Jesus a lot… but what do we remember that Jesus said?

The divine Word is one of the most important ways that God is revealed. So we’re going to see what we collectively remember Jesus said…. come up with a sort of Jesus monologue, that we can listen to and move on with.

Listening is particularly relevant when it comes to prayer, and the Transfiguration story is a good one to think about: Jesus goes up on the mountain to pray, brining along Peter and James and John to keep him company. Another time that Jesus goes off to pray on his own with Peter, James, and John tagging along, is in the garden at Gethsemane. In one story, there are pyrotechnics, and God’s voice is very clear and easy to listen to. In the other, God’s voice is silent–there’s no answer when Jesus asks God to take the cup of death away from him. No pyrotechnics. But Jesus is able to hear the voice of God in both instances of prayer, which should give us some comfort in our own prayers, whether they are met with dramatic results or lonely silence.

The lessons for Sunday, January 21 are fascinating. Isaac and I have had to choose whether to go the Nehemiah route or the 1 Corinthians route, and we’ve picked 1 Corinthians. So grab your spiritual gifts–and body–and come to Sanctuary to explore them.

Paul’s writing about how the Body of Christ, the church, is made up of many different parts. Some people are hands, others are feet, some are livers and others are skin cells. Some are glamorous, some are frankly embarassing. And some people/parts/gifts long to be others. Now, sometimes this is good–the recognition that we just don’t fit where we are, and that God is calling us to be different/more. But sometimes this is simply being unwilling to see that God is present in the here and now. If I am part of the skin of the body of Christ–somewhere on the outside, feeling dry and scaly, outside most of the “important” stuff, I am vital to the survial of those organs. The heart needs the skin to survive, just as the heart needs the liver, the lungs, millions of blood vessels, and a brain. We have need of one another in our varied roles.

So where do you belong? what gifts do you have to share with the community? What gifts do you covet, and wish you had? And what–or who–do you need to realize your attachment and entanglement with others?

As for the hokey pokey… it really does fit in to all of this. Come Sunday and find out….