Whizzing, swirling, and breaking forth in the Kingdom

How fast are you going right now? I’m mean right now, as you sit where you are.

How fast you say? Nowhere? You’re not going anywhere? 0 miles per hour?

Well, yes I suppose. You are sitting still. Unless of course you look at it in a different way. . . As the earth spins around on it’s axis, we’re all traveling about 800 miles per hour. 800 miles per hour – wow that’s pretty fast, huh?

Well, 800 miles per hour is pretty fast, unless you consider that planet earth is moving in its orbit around the sun at 64,800 miles per hour. And, then our galaxy, the Milky Way is moving at yet another 43,200 miles per hour.

Without even realizing it – without exerting the least effort – without even breaking a sweat on a steamy summer’s morning we’re whizzing round and round and all about at speeds we can’t even imagine. All beyond our knowing – all beyond our comprehension.

There are of course countless things happening to us and happening around us that we aren’t aware of. Light. Do you know that there are kinds of light that we can’t see. Light that the sun puts off, but that our human eyes can’t see. Some of that light is called ultraviolet, and some of it is called infrared. Some animals and insects can see this light, but we can’t.

Radiation. There are particles of radiated stardust rocketing down from space and pelting our bodies right now. Can you feel it? Of course you can’t.

Do you know that in our mouths there are millions of little organisms living and breathing, and eating? That’s why in the morning our mouths taste smell bad, because all those little organisms are eating away, and when something eats something else, there’s waste to be made – no little boys rooms in our molars!

There are so many things happening around us that we can’t imagine, so many things happening within us that we can’t comprehend, so many things happening to us that we have no idea. There is no much unseen, unfelt, unheard, unknown.

And the things that I’m talking about are just the things from the natural world – the world that scientists, biologists, and physicists study and tell us about.

But, there are other things too. There are things that no microscope, telescope, or Geiger-counter can pick up on. I’m speaking now of the things of the Spirit.

Angels, demons, powerful movements of the Holy Spirit, whispers from the throne of God. Who knows what’s going on around us, in us, with us – who knows of course, but God Almighty.

In this morning’s Gospel reading Jesus is talking about this world that we can’t see, or hear, or touch. He’s speaking about the Kingdom of God.
I was reminded of something a few weeks ago as I was reading. I was reminded of it, so I knew it already, but it’s always striking to ponder and think on: Jesus didn’t come to start a new religion. He didn’t come to start a religion at all. He didn’t come to reform a religion, or tweak a religion, or even undo a religion.

Jesus didn’t come to start a church either. He didn’t humble himself to be born in a lowly stable, and he didn’t humble himself by submitting to crucifixion to give us a church with bishops and priests and deacons. He didn’t come and die so that we could have church board meetings, or committees, or holiday bazaars. He didn’t come and die that we could build grand buildings like cathedrals and halls with newly refinished wood floors.

He came to show us how much God loved us. He came to give us a gift. He came to inaugurate the Kingdom.

What’s the Kingdom you might ask? Good question. Well, it’s like a little mustard seed that grew into a huge tree. It’s like a pinch of yeast that made a little bit of flour into a huge piece of bread. It’s like treasure found in a field, or an exquisite pearl. It’s like a net cast into the Sea that caught fish of every kind.

Amazing that as much as Jesus talks about the Kingdom in the Gospels he never tells us what it is. He tells us what it’s like, but never nails it down. But, one thing is clear: it’s of ultimate importance, it’s Jesus’, and he came to give it to us as a gift.

What’s also clear is that the Kingdom is not just something far away, or something that will happened a long time from now. The Kingdom is now. The Kingdom is the future. The Kingdom is heaven, it is earth, and everywhere where God dwells and reigns – which of course is everywhere.

While Karen and I were still living in Atlanta, the Diocese of Atlanta elected a new bishop. After the new bishop was ordained he was talking to one of his friends from another part of the country. His friend asked him how many churches his new diocese had. The new bishop said, “one.” The friend, of course, got a very odd look on his face. “A diocese with one church in it?”

The bishop replied, in Atlanta there is one church, with 152 missionary outposts for the Kingdom of God.

He may have been a new-be at bishop stuff, but he answered wisely. Parishes like the 152 in Atlanta, and the 118 in Maryland, and like this one, don’t exist for ourselves. We are part of something bigger than ourselves. We are outposts: each one just a part of the Church universal, a corner of the Kingdom of God.

But, that’s not even the important part of the bishop’s answer. It’s the missionary outpost that the truly important part. We are an outpost of the Kingdom of God with a mission. And this mission is simple: to help the rest of the world see God’s love, and to bring in new immigrants to the Kingdom of God.

Our mission is not to survive. It is not to limp along. It’s not to just keep afloat. Our mission is to bring people into the Kingdom, and to live into the ideals of the Kingdom.

Maybe you’ve heard that our church has been given $7,000 to do evangelism this year. We’re going to be using the 2nd most effective way to market ourselves: direct mail. (The most effective way is through television, but it’s also the most expensive!) Every household in the Lonaconing, Frostburg, and Grantsville area codes are going to get three pieces of mail from us in the next year to let everyone know that we’re here, that God loves them, and that they have an invitation to our church and to God’s Kingdom.

The idea of this advertising isn’t just to tweak people’s imagination at their mailbox, it’s to get YOU all talking to your friends and relations who will get these mailings. It’s getting you to tell your faith-story (like Tim did last week), it’s getting you to tell how much your parish helps you grow in your faith, it about you recruiting newcomers to the Kingdom.

Not so we can just grow. Not just so that we have more people in the pews, and more pledge-cards in the offering plate each week – but so that more and more people may hear and know of God’s love for them, and that they can fully realize that they have a reserved seat in God’s Kingdom.

There are things going on all around us – some we see, and others we don’t. We’re whizzing around at break-neck speed even as we sit in our pews. We’re being pelted with stardust. We’re bathed in unseen light. And God’s Kingdom is breaking out all around us, in us, and with us. Angels, archangels, all the company of Heaven, God’s Spirit, Jesus’ Presence, and the glory of God. Allow it to move in you. Move in it. And invite other to see, taste, and hear the love that God has for us, and for them.

Rights, privileges, and . . .

I am the son of Richard and Maureen Morley. I am eight years older than my younger sister, Melissa. My sister and I were raised by my parents on an island: Ocean City, New Jersey.

Growing up in my family, there were rights and privileges that were extended to me as a son and child in the family. There were of course, the usual rights and privileges: food on my plate, a roof over my head, clothes on my back. I was privileged to be sent on camping trips, vacations, and other trips by my parents, and sometimes with my parents.

There were also some privileges that were pretty specific to my family. The one that comes to mind the quickest is the fact that we lived at the beach. When we looked out the kitchen window we could see the Atlantic Ocean. We lived less than a five minute walk from the beach. In the summer, every sunny day we would go to the beach. I grew up swimming in the ocean, picking up seashells, and smelling the salt air. That was a privilege indeed.

I loved doting on my little sister, and when she was old enough to ride a bide, she and I would bike up to the boardwalk, and I would by her breakfast at one of the local grills that sat off the beach. It was a great childhood, a great place to grow up, and a great family to grow up in.

But, there were more than just rights and privileges extended to me. There were also responsibilities.

It was my responsibility to mow the lawn. (Postage stamp size on an island, but a lawn nonetheless!) It was my responsibility to wash the dishes. Clean my room. And the biggest responibility was to my sister.

My mother worked the night shift at the hospital, and my father worked during the day. So, on weekends, and during the summer months, when my mom was sleeping and my dad was at work, my job was to watch over my sister. She was my responsibility. Her safety, her entertainment, and her welfare was up to me for several hours a day. We had fun - lots of fun - but it was my contribution to being a part of the family.

In the reading from Paul's letter to the Romans this morning (8:9-17), Paul says one of the most astonishing things in the entire New Testament. He tells us that we, God's people led by the God's Spirit, have become God's children by adoption.

Now, this shouldn't be groundbreaking news to anyone. Anyone who ever attended Sunday School as a child should know that.

But, let it sink in for a moment.

God had a child. Jesus. His only born son.

But, God wasn't done with his family yet. He then adopted a few children.

Several billion by my count.

Children who are adopted become just as much a part of the family as natural born children. Legally they are a full member of the family. But, even more importantly, adopted children become completely emotionally grafted into the family. Parents who adopt children love thier adopted children, love them just as much as the children who they birth.

Now, let it sink in a moment: We are God's children. God is our father.

As God's children, we gain all the rights and privileges of being sons and daughters of God.

Think about it: children of wealthy, powerful, and influential people get some pretty good perks. George and Laura Bush's two daughters are pretty lucky. They get to fly on Air Force One. They get secret service agents assigned to them. Think of Bill Gates' three kids. Think of the children of the British Royal family: princes and princesses.

We may not be children of billionaires, world leaders, or royalty: but we are the children of the creator of the universe, the King of kings, the one who makes gold and forms diamonds through the millenia. We are children of God, will all its rights and privileges.

Paul also says that we are heirs. Children are the heirs of their parent's estate. We are joint heirs with God's Son Jesus. We are heirs of the Kingdom of God.

Let that set in a minute.

But, being children of God isn't just about rights and privileges. It's also about responsibilities. We are members of God's household, children of his family, and we have chores to do.

We are God's children and we have the responsibility to act like it.

Karen, my wife, grew up in Kingwood, West Viriginia. Her father is a small business owner in downtown Kingwood. As Karen and her siblings were growing up, her father was intent on seeing his children act right in public. For if there were running around raising Cain, it would reflect bad on the family. And if the family looked bad in the community, it might effect his business.

We have the responsibility of living lives worthy of being children of God. When we run around raising Cain we reflect bad on the family, and we make God and his Church look bad.

We have the responsibility of loving God our father, as he loves us. We have the responsibility of loving our neighbor, as he loves them too. We have the responsibility of forgiving others for the things they do to us, because our Father forgives us the sins we commit against him.

We have the responsibility of being a good member of the family - not causing, or buying into family feuds. We have the responsibility of treating the other children of God, as - children of God.

We are children of God. It's an incredible thing. It's amazing. Let it sink in. Revel in the rights and privileges of being in the family of the Almighty. And live up to that status. Let us live up to that calling, and finish our chores with joy and love.

the 'easy' Gospel?

Zoe hasn't been sleeping all that well lately. She's up several times through the night, and then up again at the crack of dawn.

This schedule does have its advantages. No more pesky pleasant dreams. No more tossing and turning. And, I'm getting to catch up on my early morning television.

The other morning I turned on the tube around dawn and caught the last few minutes of a particularly lame infomercial. "Six Second Abs." Six Seconds? A couple years ago I remember a product being out there called "Eight Minute Abs." Now they're down to six seconds. Wow.

Of course, "Six Second Abs" was being pushed by toned, tan, and youthful men and ladies who of course had incredible abdominal muscles. They were saying that if you used their workout machine you'd have perfect and attractive abs 'quickly,' and 'simply.'

The absurdity of these claims reminds me of weight loss pills which advertise themselves by saying that all you need to do is take their pills and the weight will melt off. No dieting or exercise necessary.

Quick. Easy. No fuss, no muss.

I don't know about you, but I've found that most things that are worth something aren't cheap and easy. And so, I'm wary about anything that tries to convince me how cheap and easy it's going to be.

And so, I wonder about this morning's Gospel lesson in the same way: Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.

Jesus' yoke is easy? His burden is light?

Wasn't it just last week (and just a few verses before this lesson in Matthew's Gospel) that Jesus was telling us to take up our cross and follow him to Golgotha - the place of crucifixion? Wasn't it last week that he was telling us that to save our lives we had to lose them first? Wasn't he telling his followers that it wouldn't be long before they were dragged before councils and judges because of their faith, and could face torture, flogging, or death?

And now, a few verses later, he's trying to tell them, and us, that his yoke is easy and his burden is light?

What's he talking about?

Unfortunately, there's a misconception about the Christian faith that is being blithely spread around. It's the misconception that says if you're a Christian, then everything in your life will be just perfect. You won't get sick. You won't go broke. You won't go through personal tragedy. You won't suffer for anything, and your life will be the talk of the town.

When I lived in Altanta there was a preacher there who was on the local television who had a huge congregation. He had thousands and thousands packed into his church every Sunday. His mesage every week was that if you had enough faith, you too could live in a milion dollar mansion like he did. If you just trusted in Jesus, you could drive a Rolls Royce like he did. If you just had faith you would be healthy, wealthy, and wise. (Emphasis on the "wealthy.")

Quick. Easy. No fuss, no muss.

I guess if I could believe that I would have joined that preacher in his huge congregation on Sunday mornings. However, that's just not what Jesus was all about.

Laboring for the Kingdom of God was hard work for Jesus. It consummed him. It took everything he had to give. And it was so hard, that it eventually cost him his life.

Laboring for the Kingdom of God was hard work for John the Baptist too. It consummed him. It took everything he had to give. And it eventually led to his beheading.

Laboring for the Kingdom of God was hard work for St. Peter. It consummed him. It took everything that he had to give. Until he was eventually crucified too - upside-down.

St. Paul. Archbishop Romero. Martin Luther King Jr. Pat Tilman. We could go on and on with the lives of the saints who labored hard, and who paid the ultimate price for their faith.

So, my yoke is easy and my burden is light?

Jesus isn't talking about a lifelong vacation. He isn't talking about life being quick, easy, no fuss, no muss. He's not telling us to cast off all our yokes. He's telling us to put on his yoke. Take my yoke upon you.

He's not telling us that life is easy. He's saying that when life is hard, when it is out of control, when we are at the end of our rope - that we're not alone. We're not alone with our burdens because we're carrying Jesus' yoke. And he's right next to us carrying it too.

The Greek word for 'rest' (you will find rest for your souls) (Gr. anapausin) doesn't mean long extended vacation. It means a short rest. It means a brief break to catch our breathe. It's drinking a lemonade on a hot summer's day when you're halfway done mowing the lawn. It's resting for the work yet to be done.

Jesus is telling us that he is with us when life is hard. He's telling us that he's there to take part of the load as long as we're willing to carry our fair portion. He's telling us that he's there to rest our souls when they get weary from life's hardships. And he's telling us to take that moment of rest so that we have the energy and will to press on tomorrow - right next to him.

This is good news indeed. It's good news because we're a bunch of good people who are living life with all its trials and tribulations. We are people struggling with illness. We're people struggling with family problems. We're people with financial difficulties. We're people who laugh, and mourn, and cry, and shout.

And today Jesus is telling us that he's with us through it all.

He isn't saying that he's going to take it all away. He's not telling us to wait a day or two more until our Rolls Royce shows up.

He's telling us to take his yoke upon us, resting sure that he's got the heaviest portion of the load. He's telling us that when it's too much to bear, he's there to carry us through. And, when we need to rest and recharge the batteries, he's there to refresh our soul.

I don't know about you, but I'll take that any day over the quick and the cheap.