June 22, 2003 - Second Sunday After Pentecost - Father Barry Woods

FIRST READING: Samuel 17: 1a, 4-11, 19-23, 32-49

PSALM: 9: 9-16

SECOND READING: Corinthians 6: 1-13

GOSPEL: Mark 4: 35-41

I wish that, once in a while, one or two of you at a time (we don't have that much room) could come up and hear how you sound when you sing. Thank you.

There will be no sermon this morning. About a year ago, I used the sermon time, not for a sermon, but for a Bible study. Some of you were here, and some of you will remember that time. And you will remember that I remarked to you how good you were at avoiding Bible study, and that I had you as a captive audience that Sunday; and you couldn't get away, and so you were going to get Bible study. This was all a year ago, and I find that not much has changed during that year. So you are still avoiding Bible study, most of you. You are still a captive audience, unless you choose to be conspicuous and walk out, and so I've got you; and so there is no sermon; there is a Bible study.

But, just like last year, we are going to do it in proper Episcopal fashion, and so we say:

Here beginneth the Bible study.

One of the techniques of Bible study is a word study. What you do when you do a word study is you pick a passage, and you pick one word out of that passage; and then you research that word. The object of the research is not to come up with a new or better word than the translators did. Rather, the object of the word study is to fill that word up with more and more and more meaning. So, that is what a word study tries to do. It tries to pick a word and research it, and the object is to fill that word up with meaning - enrich it, and color it, and shade it, and give it depth.

When I read the Gospel lesson some time last week in preparation for what was going to be a sermon, I was struck by the word, "rebuke". It conjured up, in my mind and in my heart, absolutely nothing. Nothing in me could find any way to respond to the word, "rebuke". That is what Jesus does to the wind in the Gospel lesson, but it just didn't mean anything to me. So, I decided to do a word study.

The first step in a word study, of course, whether it is a Biblical word or any word, is that you go to Webster, and you see what Webster says. And Webster's synonyms left me just as empty as I was before. It was "reprimand and chide", and I am sorry, but I cannot get any feeling of power or goodness from a picture of Jesus chiding the wind. So Webster didn't do me any good.

The second step in a word study is to take an English Bible and an English Concordance, and look up the word, and what the Concordance does is it lists every passage in the Bible, in the Old and New Testaments, where that word is used. And so you can pick a few of those - there are usually too many to look at all of them - but you pick a few of those passages where the word, "rebuke", is used, and you see if you don't begin to get a better feel for that word. So, I did that. In the Old Testament, I find that God rebukes Satan and evil on numerous occasions, and then the thing that grabbed me was: Do you know when God delivers the Israelites at the Red Sea from the Egyptians - you know that famous story? Do you know what God does to the Red Sea? He "rebukes it". Then, all of a sudden, the word started to mean more to me, because that great powerful saving act - the singular act for the Jews to deliver them - that act is described as a rebuke. I loved it! And then, in the New Testament, I found Peter rebuking Jesus when Jesus predicts that He must die, and I find Jesus rebuking Peter for suggesting that He need not make that sacrifice. And I found Jesus rebuking an unclean spirit that had inhabited the body of a child. I wonder if you can feel with me what began to happen for me with this word, "rebuke". All of a sudden, it began to take on a few shades of meaning. This was something that God does, not just says - this is something God does when He or His people are faced with things that are not according to His will, and that are dangerous. So, that is the second step of a word study. That step doesn't require any particular language skills, and you don't need a whole bunch of fancy books. It is fairly easy.

The third step requires some knowledge of the Biblical languages of Greek and Hebrew, and most of you probably don't have that knowledge, and it would be hard to get it. It takes a while, and so maybe one of us who has those skills could help you some time. But, the third step is to take a Greek New Testament, and a Hebrew Old Testament, and a good Greek Lexicon, and a good Hebrew Lexicon. And, by the way, at the 8:00 service, I brought those with me, and you need a truck to carry those things. So, you not only have to be strong in your commitment to word study, you have to be strong, period! But, you take these four books, and you delve into the roots of the word. What did the word mean in Hebrew and in Greek? In Hebrew, the word for rebuke is "G'R", and if you look into the roots of that Hebrew word, you will find that it means to shout out loud. See, I had this picture of sort of a dialogue between Jesus and the waves, or a discussion, or a little lecture, or a little reprimand. I didn't have a good image. Now, all of a sudden, I can feel Jesus shouting out loud to those waves. That is the Old Testament root meaning for rebuke. In the New Testament, the root meaning for the Greek word is "epitimao", which are really two words in Greek. It is the word "epi", which means "over, covering over" - like with epidermis, the skin, you know something that is over. So that is "epi". And then, the great curiosity for me, "timao", means worth, value, price, importance, and I puzzled on that, because it surprised me. I thought it would be something else. I puzzled on that and puzzled on that, and, gradually, the word begins to fill up; and rebuke becomes not only a loud shout by God, not only words, but also a deep spiritual action whereby He takes something that is important and covers it over and surrounds it with something better, something good, something holy, something according to His will.

Life gives us plenty of rough seas and dangerous winds, doesn't it? And those things are very, very important. There are a few strains of Christianity that suggest that all the evil in the world, and all the things that trouble us, and all the winds and the waves are figments of our imagination and solely due to our lack of faith - and that is nonsense! Those rough seas and heavy winds are very, very important. Oh sure, some of them are what the prayer book calls faithless fears and worldly anxieties, but most of them are very, very important. And God rebukes them. He takes those important things, and He recognizes how important they are; and He covers them over and surrounds them with something better, something good, something according to His will.

Do you begin to get some kind of feeling for what you are missing when you don't come to Bible study? I hope you are. And, if you are, even a couple of you, then I have accomplished one of the things I wanted to do.

Here endeth the Bible lesson!

July 20, 2003 - Sixth Sunday After Pentecost - Father Barry Woods

"And He had compassion for them because they were like sheep without a shepherd."

About 25 years ago, I was serving on the Commission on Ministry in the Diocese of Los Angeles. It was a brand new commission at the time, and we weren't exactly sure what our job was; but we knew that, in general, we were supposed to advise the Bishop on all matters pertaining to the ordained ministry in the Diocese of Los Angeles. At one meeting, I forget what the topic was that we were discussing, but I remember very vividly that one of our clergy members (the Commission on Ministry was composed of both clergy and lay members) was going on and on and on, at some length, about shepherds and sheep. The more he spoke, and the longer he talked, it became very, very apparent to all of us that his view of shepherds and sheep was that the clergy were the shepherds, and the sheep were way down below them in some place. And so, his monologue went on and on and on, and everyone was becoming more and more and more uncomfortable about it. Finally, a lay woman, sitting next to me, turned to me and, in a whisper loud enough for all to be heard, said, "Somebody needs to remind this guy that it is the sheep who give the wool."

The imagery of shepherds and sheep is a very powerful one in the Church, and I am sure you know that. But, I have always mistrusted that imagery. The idea of the clergy as shepherds and the people as sheep has always been something I have mistrusted. I have mistrusted it because, in the minds of too many people, it seems to create a view of the Church as a pyramid, with the bishops at the top, and then the priests, and then the deacons, and then the lay people, the sheep. My view of the Church is to take that pyramid and simply turn it around, with the lay people at the top of the pyramid, supported by those who have been ordained and consecrated to the priesthood and as bishops. I have always mistrusted this imagery of sheep and shepherds, because it seems to suggest that the shepherds do the work of the Church, and the sheep support them; and the opposite is true.

And yet, that imagery of sheep and shepherds has some value, and it has some value because the laity have a right to expect that the clergy will always act for their good. You have a right to expect that we will never misuse the power that the Church gives us. You have a right to expect that we will never harm you in any way. You have a right to expect that we will never lead you into bad pastures, that we will never expose you to the wolves. You have a right to expect that we will fight with all of our might against the wolves that do threaten you. You have a right to expect that we will never, ever, ever do anything intentionally that will drive anyone from the flock. You have a right to expect that we will never exploit you in any way, not personally, not financially, not sexually.

And so, this imagery of sheep and shepherds has some value, but, for me, it stops there. We are given a charge at ordination, but we are not placed in charge. It is an old saying, and you have heard it a million times, but it needs to be repeated over and over again: There is only one Shepherd. And it is not Andrew Green, I'm sorry. And it is not Gethin Hughes, I'm sorry (don't tell him I said that!). We have only one Shepherd, Our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and my view of ordination is not that we take one of the sheep and make him or her a shepherd. That is not my view. My view of ordination, even consecration, is that we take one of the sheep, and we hang a bell around his or her neck for a while. And maybe that bell rings loud and clear in our ears, and maybe it doesn't; but all ordination does is provide us with some lead sheep, and not a shepherd.

Today is July 20th, as I recall, and, in ten days, the General Convention of the Episcopal Church will begin in Minneapolis, and a whole bunch of bishops and clergy delegates and lay delegates will gather in Minneapolis and debate and vote on many important, and some frivolous, issues. And, if you haven't already begun to pray for that convention, now is the time to begin, because a whole lot of people, wearing a whole lot of bells, are going to gather in Minneapolis, and the noise and the clamor of those bells will reach into the newspapers and maybe even to the 6:00 news at night. The clamor will be tremendous, and it will not always be a pleasant clamor - all those bells tinkling. And our prayers for convention will vary. Some of you know the issues clearly and have clear views, and you will pray that those views will prevail, and that is fine. All of us must pray that the clamor and the clanking of those bells will cease, as all present listen for the voice of the one Shepherd. We must pray that all present there will remember that God has looked down from His Heaven on His flock, and has had compassion, and has given us our One True Shepherd.

July 27, 2003 - Seventh Sunday after Pentecost - Father Barry Woods

FIRST READING: Samuel 11: 1-15

PSALM: 14

SECOND READING: Ephesians 3: 14-21

GOSPEL: John 6: 1-21

In the Sacristy this morning, as we were vesting for the service, Ron asked me if there was going to be a lot of humor in the sermon this morning; and I scratched my head a little bit and said bluntly, "No, there's not". I could not find any source of humor in the Old Testament lesson. This great hymn of praise to the Lord Jesus Christ from the letter to the Ephesians is not the subject of any jokes or humor, and, of course, we have these two great signs in front of us in the Gospel this morning. So, with apologies to all of you and to Ron, this is the extent of the humor this morning.

"Gather up the fragments that are left over, so that nothing may be lost."

This story of the feeding of the 5,000 is one of the most important stories in all of the New Testament. I would venture to say that, next to those stories about our Lord's crucifixion, resurrection, and ascension, next to those, these stories in the New Testament about the feeding of the 5,000 must be among the most important. And it is so important that I want to caution you, first of all, this morning. Don't ever allow yourself, or anyone else, to explain away the miracle or to spiritualize the miracle. The point of this story is that hungry people got fed. They were really hungry, and they really got fed. And we must be very careful about those people who, first of all, try to spiritualize the story. They try to eliminate the miracle by spiritualizing it, and they say, "Well, what really happened is that the people were spiritually hungry, and they went away spiritually filled." The other way people try to take the miracle out of this story is by explaining it away. They say, "Well, what really happened was that all the people who were there shared the food that they had brought, and it turned out that there was plenty left over." This kind of so-called Biblical scholarship leaves me quite cold, and I hope it leaves some of you cold, also. This was a real miracle. Something powerful and strong and physical happened.

Having said that, however, there is some great symbolic value in this story. There would have been great symbolic value in it for those early Christians who first heard it, because, you see, for those early Christians, many of whom had been raised in the Jewish faith, this story's symbolism would have been very powerful. The five loaves would have represented to them the five first books of the Old Testament, the Law of Moses. The two fish would have represented to them the prophets - the Major Prophets and the Minor Prophets. And the 12 baskets would have symbolized for them the 12 tribes of Israel. And so the symbolic power of this story would have been important to those early Christians, many of them raised in the Jewish faith, whose lives had been totally fragmented by their embracing of this new Christian religion. They had lost jobs. They had lost families. They had lost friends. They had been driven out of their synagogues. Their lives were terribly fragmented, and they were separated from people they loved; and, for them to hear these words from our Lord - "Gather up the fragments, so that nothing may be lost" - for them to hear those words would have had tremendous symbolic and spiritual power.

I think they have tremendous symbolic and spiritual power for you and for me, because I believe that Christians are called to be gatherers, not fragmenters. "Gather up the fragments, so that nothing may be lost". I am so very weary of the fragmentation and fragments in the world. Sometimes, it takes all my courage just to turn on the news at night, or pick up the paper in the morning. I am so very weary of fragmentation and fragments - Republicans and Democrats; rich and poor; one race against another; war and rumors of war and death; fragmentation and fragments - and I am so very, very weary of it. And what this message this morning says to me is that I must somehow be above all of the fragmentation that is going on in the world today. I don't mean aloof from it. I don't mean not caring. But, what this Gospel says to me this morning is that, somehow, as a Christian, I must rise above it. I must not ally myself too closely with any of the fragments. I must, instead, try my very best to be a gatherer, and to gather the fragments in the world around me, so that nothing and no one is lost.

So, I am weary of the fragmentation in the world, and I am worried about the fragmentation in the Episcopal Church. Oh, I'm not worried in any ultimate way - we have our Lord's promise that the very gates of hell will not prevail against His Church - so I am not worried about it ultimately. But, in the short run, yes, I am worried. On Wednesday, representatives from our Church will gather for the General Convention, and the fragmentation is all around us. There are many important and bitterly-divisive issues, so we have fragments and fragments and fragments and the threat that these fragments will scatter; and, so, I worry about that. And in my prayer about the General Convention, I vow that I will not get so involved with any one of the fragments that I fail to become a gatherer; that, somehow, I must stay focused on the central realities of our Church and our faith, and not get too involved with any one of the fragments, so that somehow, in some small way, I might become a gatherer and not a fragmenter.

So, I am weary of the fragmentation in the world, and I worry about the fragmentation in the Church; and I wonder about the fragmentation in my own life. My life is a lot like yours. It is kind of complex. There is a lot of information coming at me all the time - a lot of data. It comes from all kinds of places, and there is so much of it that is hard to take it all in and integrate it into one piece. And so, what I do is I divide my life up into compartments, and I put things in compartments. I have my political compartment, and my economic compartment, and my childrens' compartment, and my grandchildren's compartment, and my finances compartment, and I even have a compartment, I am so bitterly sorry to tell you, for my wife. And so, I have all of these compartments, and, once in a while, something will happen in one of those compartments, and I have to rush into that compartment and deal with whatever it is; and, while I am doing that, something happens over here, and I have to rush over there and deal with that; and then something happens here. . . . My life is filled with compartments, fragmentation, and fragments, and I know that, somehow, somehow I must do a better job of placing my Lord Jesus Christ at the absolute and complete center of my life, so that all of these compartments, all of these fragments, can be gathered and nothing lost.

I don't usually preach personal sermons. Oh, they are always personal, but I usually don't say things in these personal kinds of terms. But, perhaps it might have rung a bell with some of you - that some of you are weary also of the fragmentation in the world; that some of you also worry about the fragmentation in our Church; that some of you also wonder about the fragmentation in your lives.

This morning, you and I need to really, really tune in and become better instruments of the one who said, "Gather up the fragments, so that nothing may be lost".