Category Archives: Scripture

Sermon: “Thus well arrayed I need not fear . . .”

St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Edina, Minnesota
The Reverend Neil Alan Willard, M.Div.
Easter Day, April 8, 2012

“And very early on the first day of the week, when the sun had risen,
they went to the tomb.” (Mark 16:2)

The Good Friday print edition of The New York Times included an unusual article from Caracas, the capital of Venezuela. There a 17-story mausoleum, covered in bright white ceramic tiles that were imported from Spain, has slowly begun to loom over the historic buildings around it. When completed, it will hold the remains of Simón Bolívar, who led the nation’s war of independence and died in 1830. As for the modern design of this new structure [click to see photograph] and its meaning, the article notes that it:

. . . looks to many [Venezuelans] like the world’s biggest skateboard ramp. To others, it evokes a parking garage, a shopping mall, a bridal veil, a sailing ship or a drive-in movie screen. Some simply call it an outrage.

But to its creators, it is an eloquent tribute to the father of the nation, the quasi-mythical inspiration for President Hugo Chavez’s socialist revolution. . . .

The mausoleum will almost certainly be interpreted as one of the signature architectural works of Mr. Chavez’s revolution and a measure of his government’s aspirations. Some already see in it a reflection of Mr. Chavez’s ego. With Mr. Chavez battling cancer and his mortality on nearly everyone’s mind, some also wonder whether the tomb might be intended to have another human occupant someday.[1]

The reporter observed that, on the inside, “the vast space evokes a cathedral, majestic and solemn,” which fits with the last word at the end of the article from Orlando Martinez. He’s a member of the design team, who said, “This is a place of worship.”[2]

Yesterday I posted on my blog, Laughing Water, a photograph of a very different kind of resting place. Continue reading

Sermon: “All we want are the facts, ma’am.” Really?

Is Sgt. Joe Friday demanding to know "the facts" or merely pointing to some whatchamacallit or thingamajig for his partner to bring over to the table?

St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Edina, Minnesota
The Reverend Neil Alan Willard, M.Div.
Lent V, March 24, 2012

“. . . we wish to see Jesus.” (John 12:21)

Those words were spoken to a disciple of Jesus by what the Gospel of John describes as “some Greeks” who had come to worship in Jerusalem. They may have been Jews from the diaspora. They may have been Gentiles, foreshadowing the fact that the message of Jesus would eventually reach the ends of the earth. For today, however, let’s assume that these Greeks represent you and me. Some of us, like some of them, wish to see Jesus.

It’s interesting to note that these Greeks, in spite of their request, never seem to have come face to face with him. Their situation brings to mind the familiar words of Jesus to Thomas at the end of John’s Gospel: “Have you believed because you have seen me? Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe.”[1] It turns out that we have to see Jesus differently, that we have to see him through the eyes of faith.

We use that kind of language a lot – “the eyes of faith” – without much thought about the meaning of the words. Needless to say, that can create a bit of confusion.

Unfortunately, that’s something the church does really well – generating confusion– not only for those who have crossed an ecclesiastical threshold for the first time, but also for those of us who have long anchored our life in a community of faith. Episcopalians are notoriously guilty of magnifying this kind of verbal chaos by giving simple objects complicated names! In fact, I have a confession to make that I hope will make many of you feel a little better whenever you become lost in the language of the church. Continue reading

Lent Madness: Vote for Dietrich Bonhoeffer!

I’ve been traveling a bit, which resulted in a kind of Lenten fast of words here on Laughing Water. Another reason for that, of course, has been Lent Madness. As you may recall, I’m one of eight “celebrity bloggers” who have been asked to write about and, eventually, advocate for various saints.

Three of the four heroes of Christian faith that were assigned to me advanced from the initial 32-saint bracket to “The Saintly Sixteen.” Two of those three, Jerome and Thomas Cranmer, have already made it into “The Elate Eight.”

My hope is that, with your help, Dietrich Bonhoeffer will soon join them. You can read his biography from the first round here. The second round focuses on “Quirks and Quotes,” like the fact that his enthusiasm for bullfighting not only amused but also confused his theological students.

However, three quotes from Bonhoeffer that I highlighted for Lent Madness are what I really want to share with you today. Perhaps they will inspire you to vote for him there. But my greatest hope, of course, is that these words will encourage you in your own Lenten journey as you walk toward the cross of Christ.

Here’s a quote from a letter by Bonhoeffer in 1939 to Reinhold Niebuhr:

I must live through this difficult period in our national history with the people of Germany. I will have no right to participate in the reconstruction of Christian life in Germany after the war if I do not share the trials of this time with my people.

Here’s a quote from his book Life Together:

It is not simply to be taken for granted that the Christian has the privilege of living among other Christians. Jesus Christ lived in the midst of his enemies. At the end all his disciples deserted him. On the Cross he was utterly alone, surrounded by evildoers and mockers. For this cause he had come, to bring peace to the enemies of God. So the Christian, too, belongs not in the seclusion of a cloistered life but in the thick of foes. There is his commission, his work.

Here’s a quote from his book The Cost of Discipleship:

When he was challenged by Jesus to accept a life of voluntary poverty, the rich young man knew he was faced with the simple alternative of obedience or disobedience. When Levi was called from the receipt of custom or Peter from his nets, there was no doubt that Jesus meant business. Both of them were to leave everything and follow. Again, when Peter was called to walk on the rolling sea, he had to get up and risk his life. Only one thing was required in each case — to rely on Christ’s word, and cling to it as offering greater security than all the securities in the world. The forces which tried to interpose themselves between the word of Jesus and the response of obedience were as formidable then as they are to-day. Reason and conscience, responsibility and piety all stood in the way, and even the law and “scriptural authority” itself were obstacles which pretended to defend them from going to the extremes of antinomianism and “enthusiasms.” But the call of Jesus made short work of all these barriers . . .

Sermon: “We must not think evil of this man.”

Last night my wife and I watched The Amish, a documentary by AMERICAN EXPERIENCE that was broadcast on PBS. At one point it looked back to the tragedy that unfolded inside a one-room schoolhouse in rural Pennsylvania on October 2, 2006, when ten Amish girls were shot, killing five of them.

Because there was enough time between that Monday and my sermon the next Sunday at Bruton Parish Episcopal Church in Williamsburg, Virginia, I was able to reflect deeply on that event. So I didn’t merely allude to it but focused on it.

Here’s what I said: Continue reading

Martyrs Topic: Lewis Smedes on Homosexuality

NEWS FLASH: Tonight’s meeting of the St. Stephen’s Martyrs has been canceled since the Edina Country Club is closed this week for remodeling. So this topic will be discussed at next week’s meeting.

The Martyrs, a men’s group, decided to continue last week’s discussion about Minnesota’s proposed marriage amendment that would ban, constitutionally, same gender marriage in the state. So tonight’s next week’s conversation will take place after watching an interview with Lewis Smedes, a former professor emeritus of theology and ethics at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena, California, where he taught for more than twenty-five years. He was educated at Calvin College, where he also taught, Calvin Theological Seminary, and the Free University of Amsterdam. Smedes, who died in 2002, was an ordained minister in the Christian Reformed Church and most noted for his books on forgiveness.

Christianity Today, in an article that was published after Smedes’ death, quoted the President of Fuller Theological Seminary, Richard Mouw, as saying:

More than one of his former students has said that while his class lectures were unforgettable, it was worth coming to class just to hear his opening prayer.

This was a man of prayer with impeccable credentials as an Evangelical Christian, who loved Jesus and spent most of his life reflecting on ethics in relation to being a follower of Jesus. Many people can relate to his background and his struggle to understand the issue of homosexuality in the life of our various churches.

Not everyone, of course, will agree with his conclusions, which changed over time and are described in the video below. However, I hope that most of us will at least be able to appreciate these words of his near the end of this interview:

I know that a lot of churches besides mine are really wrestling, in all good conscience, with this issue. . . . I just want to say that my heart goes out to you in your wrestling because I know how hard it is.

Learn more about the St. Stephen’s Martyrs and how to find them here.

Martyrs Topic: “. . . so much delight in one man.”

St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Edina, Minnesota
The Reverend Neil Alan Willard, M.Div.
December 30, 2011

RODNEY DANFORTH HARDY
February 21, 1938 – December 1, 2011

O God, you make us glad by the yearly festival of the birth of your only Son Jesus Christ: Grant that we, who joyfully receive him as our Redeemer, may with sure confidence behold him when he comes to be our Judge; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

On behalf of Rod’s wife, Katie, and their daughters, Kim, Elizabeth, and Jo, I want to thank you all for your presence today as we give thanks to God for Rod’s life and witness not only in this community of faith but also in the community of friendship that has gathered here this afternoon. Please know of their deep gratitude for your prayers and your deeds of kindness throughout the fall months before Rod’s death at the beginning of December. His bow ties, his contagious joy, his encouraging words, and, above all, his presence will be missed. As one of my clergy colleagues put it, “Rod always made me laugh, and I have never witnessed so much delight in one man.” To that, I say, “Amen.”

On the cover of your bulletin, you’ll see a picture that was drawn by Rod, inspired by Psalm 121, which we read together a few minutes ago. It’s one of 15 “Psalms of Ascents,” songs that accompanied pilgrims on their way to Jerusalem. Their walk upward into the city and then onto the temple mount was both a literal ascent and a metaphorical one. It represented a life that over and over reached toward the presence of God.

Psalm 121 opens with a question: “I lift up my eyes to the hills, from where is my help to come?” That kind of searching is a universal human experience. Everyone turns to something or someone in a time of need. Everyone wonders at some point if God, as a source of help, can be trusted. Continue reading

Sermon: Christmas Reveals a Different Kind of Glory

St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Edina, Minnesota
The Reverend Neil Alan Willard, M.Div.
Christmas Eve, December 24, 2011

Loosen a little our grip, O Lord, on our words and our ways, our fears and our fretfulness, that finding ourselves found in you, we may venture from the safety of the shore and launch afresh into the waters of grace with Jesus, “the bright morning star,”[1] as our guide. Amen.

When I was in college, I remember attending Christmas Eve services at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in downtown Winston-Salem, North Carolina. One of the head ushers always stood out on that holy night. He could be seen marching up and down the aisles in some of the most wonderfully outrageous Christmas trousers you’ve ever seen. It was surely the only time of the year that he would’ve dared to wear such clothing in that church. Of course, he wasn’t alone. There was lots of other playful attire in the pews on people who would normally be dressed rather conservatively, to say the least.

My former boss, now the Bishop of Southern Virginia, has a similar, fond memory of a guy who would wear the same socks to his church every Christmas Eve and would show them off at the door as he greeted the clergy. The socks were green and had little silver bells all over them, so he would jingle as he walked around. Christmas brought out something playful in him, something of the joy and wonder that we see in children.

More than a few of you here tonight understand that sense of playfulness. I’m sure that Len Slade’s famous red hat is in the building. I’m also sure that there are candy cane neckties, bow ties with lights, Santa pins that play music, and red and green sparkling earrings out there in the darkness, waiting to be noticed with a little grin and a wink.

For some people, all of this is a kind of false religion, a form of escape from sadness, sickness, disappointment, and the darkness of the world. For the rest of us, however, it’s a reminder that true joy can be found in the midst of those harsh realities and that, as Isaiah declared, “on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.” Continue reading