Trust. Breathe. Pray: Sermon by the Rev. Lex Breckinridge

Sermon preached at St. Thomas Episcopal Church in Medina, WA, by the Rev. Lex Breckinridge on the First Sunday of Lent, February 17, 2013.

Saturday, February 16: Thien Di Do

John 1:43-51. When Jesus saw Nathanael coming towards him, he said of him, ‘Here is truly an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!’ Nathanael asked him, ‘Where did you come to know me?’ Jesus answered, ‘I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you. Nathanael replied, ‘Rabbi, you are the Son of God! You are the King of Israel!’ Jesus answered, ‘Do you believe because I told you that I saw you under the fig tree? You will see greater things than these.

Have you ever found yourself in a situation when someone recognizes you before you’ve formally been introduced? And you wonder, “how does this person know me?” Most often, it’s because of something you’ve accomplished. On the other hand, have you ever been recognized for doing nothing at all? Is there a time you’ve done nothing to impress or please, but are still warmly received as if you’ve been lifelong friends? In this passage, it is clear that Nathanael has never met Jesus, and when he asks Him, “Where did you come to know me?”, Jesus’ answer is not for all of the things that Nathanael has accomplished, but instead he answers simply, “I saw you under the fig tree before Philip called you.

Jesus recognizes us. He sees us without any of our glory and loves us for who we are. Sometimes, we forget that we don’t have to impress Jesus in order to be loved. In fact, we don’t have to do anything at all, and most certainly, we don’t have to be perfect. He not only recognizes us in our good times, but loves and comforts us when we are broken. When you find yourself asking, “How does Jesus know me?” Remember, He sees us. He recognizes us. He died for us. And, He loves us.      

—   Thien Di Do

Friday, February 15: Greg Murray

John 1:35-42. He brought Simon* to Jesus, who looked at him and said, ‘You are Simon son of John. You are to be called Cephas’ (which is translated Peter).

This passage has many things to comment about, but for me the last verse, and in particular, the last sentence of the verse is the most profound.

In this simple gesture of bestowing a name on Simon, Jesus makes him his own. He extends his unconditional love and grace through the simple act of naming him. We all want a name, and we all want to be known and loved. No matter the time or the circumstance, Jesus is there softly calling us by name and telling us he love us and wants us for his own.

Often times in the chaos and “busyness” of my life, I have a hard time hearing Jesus naming me and calling me to be his own. And when I stop listening it is easy for me to feel alone, overwhelmed and unloved. So when I slow down, breath and listen, I hear it! Jesus calling me by name and telling me he loves me despite my unwillingness to hear him, my doubts and my humanness.

The beauty and power of Christ’s love is that it is always there. Jesus is always calling us – naming us as his own! It is my prayer in this Lenten season that you will take time to listen to Jesus calling your name and let his unconditional love and grace comfort and strengthen you!

—   Greg Murray

Monday, February 18: Christopher Breunig

Deuteronomy 8:11-20. Do not say to yourself, ‘My power and the might of my own hand have gained me this wealth.’ But remember the LORD your God, for it is he who gives you power to get wealth, so that he may confirm his covenant that he swore to your ancestors, as he is doing today.

This reading speaks to me as an incredibly counter-culture message. We rely on the myth of the rugged individual or self-made person as the archetype of success achieved through hard work, force of will and luck. Success we are told comes from long solitary efforts at a desk or laboratory, daring bets, steadfast persistence in relation to adversity, and the flash of genius seem to form our modern vision of how we succeed. It is easy to think that this passage is a relic — a message only appropriate to backward superstitious people who lived thousands of years ago who need the myth that God created all that is good in their lives. But in our hearts and minds we know the passage is not a relic. It is calling us into a more accurate and complete view of our place in God’s creation in which our lives are linked to God and all creation.

God’s covenant provides unearned unlimited love. We don’t take a test to get this love. We can’t buy or otherwise convince someone that we are entitled to this love. We are filled with this love every moment of our lives. When aware of this love, we can do amazing things. When we think that the source of our success is ourselves, we forget our parents, teachers and others in our lives who helped us to become who we are. Without the active knowledge that all we have is a gift from a loving God, we can easily fall prey to messages that our success is all about us. We act on the relentless messages that we focus on self-improvement of our wealth, attractiveness, charisma, and power. In short, we become blind to the life and love surrounding us.            

—    Christopher Breunig

Thursday, February 14: Beth Zobel

Deuteronomy 6:6-11. For you are a people holy to the Lord your God; the Lord your God has chosen you out of all the peoples on earth to be his people, his treasured possession. It was not because you were more numerous than any other people that the Lord set his heart on you and chose you—for you were the fewest of all peoples. It was because the Lord loved you and kept the oath that he swore to your ancestors.

This is a comforting passage. While I believe its truth, does it inform my daily life? When I’m rudely cut off in traffic, do I remember God’s oath? What about when conflict, disappointment, or grief arises? Owning my treasured status tends to take a back seat when conditions are less pleasant And it happens pretty fast! I almost reflexively try to maintain comfort, control, security, and persona! I’m tired of this struggle—of intellectually knowing that I’m chosen by God while continuing the habits of a spiritual orphan. I’m exhausted from reactivity, striving, and doubt. It’s time to take another step toward accepting and acting on my inheritance. I am ready to acknowledge and respond to the oath. This Lent, I bring my fatigue to God.    

—   Beth Zobel

Ash Wednesday, February 13: Bishop Greg Rickel

Beware of practising your piety before others in order to be seen by them; for then you have no reward from your Father in heaven. Matthew 6:1-6, 16-21.
 

Quite frankly a most strange choice of readings on the one day most Episcopalians have a chance to walk out into the world with some identifying mark, some outward sign, which says, I am a believer. On this day, we are walking billboards! This passage has a lot to commend it. You and I both know people we wish would read it and put it into real use in their lives. We know those who certainly “share” their faith, and often their judgement on our own, too much!
 

I have heard the debates about keeping your ash cross on for the day, or wiping it off before going outside the church. I have always been on the side of wearing it, all day long. To me, the looks we get, the questions, ought to make us think about how revealing our faith is on other days, how provoking the mark of our life is on those around us. To live this one day with that conspicuous mark, that was traced on our forehead in oil at our baptism is a reminder not so much to the world, but to us, that the cross is there all days, every day, indelible, forever. Beyond that outward mark, of ash brought forward from the palms of yesteryear, what kind of sign or mark is your life? What does the reality of that cross mean in your life, today yes, but all days?

+ Greg Rickel, Bishop of Olympia

Introduction to the St. Thomas Lenten Devotional: The Rev. Karen Haig

For Christians, Lent is a time set apart. Forty full, rich and long days to reflect and to pray, to look within, to seek out the things in our lives that create distance between God and ourselves. Lent is a time to discern how God may be calling us. What might we take on, or let go of, in order to more freely love God, our neighbors and ourselves?
 
We offer you the St Thomas Lenten Devotional and invite you to spend some time each day reflecting on Holy Scripture with our St Thomas community. These reflections have been written with great care and attention by the people of our community, and they offer us an opportunity to move more deeply into our relationships with God, with one another and with ourselves.
 
My heartfelt thanks to all who prayed and pondered and wrote so beautifully from the riches of their own lives to make this booklet happen. This little devotional is a great gift to us all, and it has been my privilege to have had a hand in bringing it to you. I invite you to use it to pray with, to come closer into community by coming to know a bit more of the people who have written these reflections. May this Lent be an especially rich and holy season for us all.
 
Faithfully, Karen†