End of the Day Tantrums and the wisdom of James

 

Rev. Molly F. James, Ph.D.

St. James’s, West Hartford, CT

September 22, 2024, Proper 20B

Psalm 1; James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a; Mark 9:30-37

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

There was an article in the New York Times recently that caught my eye: “End-of-day meltdowns are not just for kids.” Hmm. Oh, you mean that thing where I pick my kids up and am short tempered with them for no particular reason and just wish dinner would magically appear on the table and the laundry would all do itself is not just a me thing? Oh. 

The article went on to describe some helpful suggestions for how those of us parents (and really any adults) might alter our routines to help us have calmer transitions and more patience. Because of course the end of the day (or middle of the day) meltdown is not unique to working parents with small children. All of us get stressed and snap at those we love. 

All of us fail to live up to the wisdom we have in the Letter of James today: “Show by your good life that your works are done with gentleness born of wisdom. But the wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.” 

Peaceable, gentle, willing to yield? Does that sound like how any of us feel when we are stressed out or melting down or dealing with a sense of overwhelm? I doubt it. 

So, what can we do? How might we help ourselves and those around us do better? Because I have certainly found it to be true that if I meet someone else’s grumpy with more grumpy that doesn’t serve either of us. If one of us can be centered and full of mercy then the whole situation changes. 

Fortunately that article had some helpful suggestions of a lot of small things we can do. 

First off, is to be able to recognize when we are feeling stressed. Hopefully we can learn to do this on our own, and sometimes we need help. I know I often need a friend or one of my children to say something to me like: “Hey you seem out of sorts. Are you okay?” A nice, polite and gentle way to say, “I really don’t like how you're behaving right now, and it feels like you are taking stuff out on me.

And then we need to de-stress. This doesn’t have to be a complicated regime. It can be some simple acts that take a few minutes. Take some deep breaths. Go for a walk. Pray. Especially saying a prayer that is familiar and grounding - Our Father, 23rd Psalm, one of those beautiful prayers from Compline. Or keep a favorite verse or two of scripture handy. Or have a cross or beads or a rock or something tangible you can keep in your pocket or your bag to help you reconnect with God. 

I know for me there is something important and profound that happens in prayer and worship. My mind is more focused. I have found my priorities again, and I no longer feel stuck in the swirling anxiety and stress of my own head. This is why worship matters. Why prayer matters. It actually makes a substantive, tangible difference in our bodies and our lives. 

The other thing that matters is that we have routines. We need to have habits to help us transition from one part of your day to the other. What if we don’t work right up to the last possible moment before we transition home for the evening? What if we are more intentional about putting our phone aside? What if we change our clothes when we get home? Or take a few minutes to listen to a song that always lifts our spirits? The possibilities are endless. 

And we need to be able to tell those around us what we need. Do we want to jump right into conversation the moment we walk in the door? Or do we need a few minutes of quiet? Are we 100 times more able to engage if the first thing we do when we get home is have a snack and a glass of water? And what about our kids? Are we asking them what works best for them too and then living into that together? 

This may seem like a long list or sound like a lot, and I hope you can see that they are small actions - just a few minutes, a few small changes here and there that can have a profound impact. 

No doubt the world and our lives need more of the “wisdom from above” that is “pure, then peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.” It is the life of humility and grace that Jesus describes in our Gospel today. When we act more like an innocent, joyful child than the squabbling disciples who are far too focused on who is the greatest. 

Imagine a world where there is more gentleness and mercy than envy and selfish ambition? Sounds beautiful right? Well, we may not be able to change the whole world this week, but if we can change our own hearts and habits it will make a difference in our lives. And who knows what the ripple effects of that could be? 

AMEN. 

Good and Bad Fruit

 

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom

June 23, 2021

Genesis 15:1-12,17-18; Psalm 47; Matthew 7:15-20

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

“Every tree that does not bear good fruit is cut down and thrown into the fire.” Really? We have to go here? All this judgment and condemnation. Where is the reassurance, the comfort, the inspiration we are all seeking in the midst of these uncertain and challenging times. Things seem “back to normal” in so many ways, and yet if we pause and reflect, even for a moment, we know that there is not really any “going back.”  The world, and we, will never be the same again. This past year has been a crucible, an experience of challenges and struggle, an experience that has reshaped our understanding of the world and of ourselves. We may feel comfortable eating in restaurants and getting on airplanes, but we are fooling ourselves if we think we have just picked up where we left off in March of 202o.

So, as we try to navigate our way into this new, maybe we can say “post,” Pandemic way of being, I find it hard to hear this text. Hard to think of God judging us so harshly. Wasn’t one of the central lessons of the past year how much it matters to be compassionate? We are all in this together. Everything will be better if we can show each other more grace and care. How do we square those important lessons with texts that seem to divide the world into good fruit and bad fruit?

As I think I have shared with you all before, when I encounter one of the judgment texts, I return to insights gained from psychologist Eugene Kennedy who wrote a book of reflections after 9/11 entitled, Meditations at the Center of the World. In it he talks about some of the various judgement passages in Scripture - how we often get this theme of bad fruit or chaff being thrown into the fire. Instead of seeing it as dividing the world into good and bad people, Kennedy invites us to see and have compassion for the complexity of ourselves and other people.

We are fruit, mostly good and with a few bad spots. Or perhaps better yet we are the barrel of apples. So much good, and also the occasional bad apple.  We are the whole stalk - the wheat and the chaff. None of us is all good or all bad. Life is just not that simple. 

What Kennedy also reminds us of is that what is good in us is real, it is what is eternal. It is what lasts. God’s “judgment” of us is not wholesale. It is about helping us come to see ourselves fully and to let go, to throw into the fire that which does not give life. That which impedes our ability to grow in relationship with God and with each other. That is what should be cast into outer darkness. That is the fruit, the chaff that should be burned. 

Hopefully one of the gifts that has come our way in the midst of this pandemic has been a sense of clarity about ourselves and the world. A sense of clarity about what really matters to us. Where are our priorities? What are the things that we put down that we don’t actually need to pick back up again? What are the things that we can let go of? We picked up plenty of new anxieties and challenges in the last year, and hopefully we also discovered more clarity about what brings us joy and where we want to invest our precious time and energy. 

So, my friends, I hope that you will see in today’s Gospel an invitation rather than a condemnation. An opportunity to pause and reflect as the world reopens and we do more and more things. There is new life possible out of all the pain and loss of this past year. We are an Easter people. That truth stands at the heart of our faith. May you find this time of transition to be fruitful and life-giving. May it offer you an opportunity to grow, in all the various roles you inhabit. Most importantly may it offer you the opportunity to say yes to a path that affirms your identity as a beautiful and beloved child of God. Amen.

Choosing Grace and Mercy

 

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom

April 28, 2021

Psalm 53; Col. 1:24-2:7; Luke 6:27-38

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

I think many of you know that when I was on chemotherapy as a teenager, I was granted a wish by the Make-A-Wish foundation. That wish involved traveling to NYC to see Broadway shows. Two shows in particular - The Phantom of the Opera and Les Miserables. I am not sure it is an accident that a teenager who was struggling with questions of meaning, life, mortality and how to have hope in the midst of struggle wanted to see these two shows. In fact their soundtracks had brought me comfort in the midst of many a difficult day. The tape of Les Miserables was what I brought with me every time I had to have an MRI. The sheer vigor and force of its music able to drown out the tapping of the machine. 

It wasn’t just the music that drew me in these shows. It was the story. One of the elements of the story of Les Miserables that has stayed with me is the interaction between Jean Valjean and the bishop. Just in case you are not familiar with it, here’s a brief synopsis. Valjean had escaped from prison and the bishop was kind enough to offer him food and lodging for the night. In the middle of the night, he steals the bishop’s silver and runs off. He is caught. He tells the police that the bishop gave it to him. They bring him back and confront the bishop with this story. The bishop says that he did give it to him, and makes Valjean promise that he will use the proceeds of the silver to become a better man. He does, and of course the rest of the story tells of all the fruits of that moment of grace and generosity. 

I couldn’t help but think of that story with our passage from Luke today. Turn the other cheek. Give your shirt also. Show mercy. To everyone - not just those you like or agree with today. Embody the self-giving love and generosity of Jesus. Choose grace and compassion over personal gain. After all, it isn’t really about us. 

Now, we are not likely to have an escaped convict in our houses try to steal whatever is most valuable to us, so we cannot draw a direct parallel to Valjean and the bishop. But we can see the principle in it. We can see the choice to choose hope and possibility over vengeance and self-righteousness. 

Of course it could be argued that the bishop is being too lenient and giving Valjean a free pass. He broke the law. He stole. He needs to be held accountable. That is all true. And I think it can be argued that the bishop is holding him accountable. There will not be a day in Valjean’s life when he does not remember that he is alive and free and has all that he has because of that bishop’s mercy. The bishop offered a second chance, an opportunity for redemption, an opportunity to be defined by what he could be rather than what he had done. 

There is an invitation here for us to do that same. To respond with grace and compassion. I do think it is worth noting here that I do not believe that either Jesus nor the bishop are inviting us to be complicit in oppression. We are not being asked to surrender our dignity or self-worth. We are being invited to turn the world’s power dynamics on their head by responding with grace rather than aggression. We are being invited to be, and to inspire others to be, our best selves.

This is hard work. It is holy work. I struggle with it. And I know I can best do it when I am connected to and grounded in my relationship with God. So, I hope that we will take this invitation to be more deeply connected and to choose grace and mercy first. Amen. 

A sprinkling of salt

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer

February 9, 2021

Psalm 8; 2 Tim. 1:1-14; Mark 9:42-50

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

As many of you know, I love to cook. And one of my favorite things to make is chocolate chip cookies. I alternate between traditional regular chocolate chip cookies and an “everything but the kitchen sink” version that is a chocolate cookie with nuts and three kinds of chips - dark chocolate, white chocolate and peanut butter. I love them both for very different reasons. I recently made a discovery that the dark chocolate cookies were made even better if I sprinkled them with salt as soon as they came out of the oven. 

That’s the thing about salt. Just a little bit of it opens up a whole new set of flavors. But the “little bit” is key. I am sure we have all had the experience of eating something that has been over salted. There is a fine line between flavor enhancement and inedibility. A little bit is amazing. Too much is ruinous. 

Today’s Gospel is all about what gets in the way of us deepening our relationship with God. What are our stumbling blocks? What keeps us from living more fully into who God calls us to be? 

But it is that last part about salt. About having salt. About being salt. About finding peace that really caught my attention. It gave me pause, because I will admit that first portion about stumbling blocks felt like an admonition. Stumbling blocks, God? You want to talk about stumbling blocks, okay. No problem. I have a long list for you. There is a global pandemic. We are all working from home. We are utterly exhausted, and while there is a light at the end of this tunnel it is still too far away. Not enough people are getting vaccines fast enough. We miss being together - in person! We are weighed down by the enormous challenges facing our nation and our world right now. Poverty, Racism, Sexism, Environmental Degradation, name your issue. See God, we have plenty of stumbling blocks! 

But then I pause. Then I think about what some of the wisest voices I know might say to me. . . Molly, take a deep breath. Think about that list for a moment. What is notable about it? Oh. You mean the part where I have conveniently named only external stumbling blocks and failed to take responsibility for what I might do differently. You mean that might be part of the problem? Oh and externalizing everything might also cut me off from the gift of being able to connect more deeply with God and those around me? Oh, yeah, that’s not very helpful. 

And I go back to the salt. I think about how just a little bit makes a difference. What if that were true here too? What if I don’t in fact have to fix all the world’s problems today. What if I don’t have to make a seismic shift in my spiritual practices? What if, at least for today, it is not about transforming everything? What if, at least for today, it was just about the small steps, the sprinkling of salt that might be life giving? That might move us one step closer to the depth we crave, to the coming of the kingdom?

In my current state of pandemic overwhelm, coupled with my task oriented, achievement driven personality, I needed that reminder that it does not (and probably cannot nor should not) all be done today. Small steps are okay. For today, for now, they are enough. As the Carrie Nicewander song we listened to last week says, every small kindness shifts the balance toward the light. 

I hope that resonates for you. I hope that you feel your burdens lightened. I hope that you feel more glimmers of hope and possibility. I hope that you feel inspired to seek out the small ways that you might deepen your connection to God. A few more deep breaths. A little more quiet. A little more time outside. Choosing relationship over task a little more often. Reaching out just to say “hi.” A little more time for prayer. A little more time to feed our souls. 

I trust that all those sprinkles of salt, all those small steps, all those moments will enrich us and nourish us so that we might have what we need to be a part of the transformation of the world, together. Amen. 

Pearls and Treasure

Field in Maine

 

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer via Zoom

Commemoration of Margaret of Scotland

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

One of the gifts in the midst of all of the challenges of this pandemic is that I get to hear my friends preach. Even if we both have Sunday morning duties or even if we are hundreds of miles apart, the wonders of online worship means we can be present to each others’ ministry in ways that were not previously possible. I had the opportunity to hear a friend preach on this parable of the treasure and the pearl when  came up in our lectionary this summer. I have long thought of myself, of humanity as the buyer in this story. A good Protestant work ethic, a type A, slightly workaholic personality who is highly driven means that I saw this story as reinforcing the idea that we are supposed to sacrifice. We are the ones who are supposed to give all we have, all we can for the building up of the kingdom. 

My friend offered a different interpretation. One that turned my understanding on its head. He invited me to consider the possibility that rather than being the buyer, what if I am the treasure? What if I am the pearl? Oh. That is a very different thing. 

If I am the treasure. If we, each and everyone of us, are the pearl of great price then this is not a parable about how hard we should work or how much we should sacrifice. It is a parable about how beloved we are of God. It is about the joy God finds in us. Oh. That is very different indeed. 

I don’t know about you all, but I needed the reminder of that all important truth this week. The days are full. There is much important and meaningful work to be done. Some of it is easier to do remotely, but much of it is missing the intangible benefits of conversation and collegiality that come from being in the same place as friends and co-workers. The virus is surging again, and many think cases will not peak until January. There are wonderful hopeful signs in terms of treatments and a vaccine, but it is clear that we still have a long road ahead of us. There are divisions in our country, and we have much important and meaningful healing and reconciliation to do. So many bridges need building. Anyone else exhausted yet? 

That is why I needed that reminder. That all important beautiful reminder that we - each and everyone of us - is beloved of God. We bring God joy. Our “worth” is that of treasure and the most magnificent of pearls. Our worth is beyond measure. We do not earn that worth. We are beloved. We bring God joy just by being. Just by who we are. God loves us because we belong to God, because we are of God. 

What a gift. What a blessing. Let us rest a moment in that truth. Let it sink into your heart, into your bones.

I don’t think this interpretation is giving us permission to just stop and do nothing. All the other truths of our faith still apply. We are followers of Jesus. We are called to bear God’s reconciling, redeeming Love to the world. We are called to do good works and care for people’s needs like Margaret of Scotland who we remember today. 

This interpretation of the parable just invites us to start differently. It invites us to be gentle with ourselves and with all those we meet. Perhaps this parable can help us in the moments when we find ourselves getting aggravated or annoyed with those with whom we disagree. What if instead of focusing on everything that is frustrating us, we remember that this person is also a pearl of great price, that they too are beloved of God? What if we try to see them as God does and to see what about that person brings God joy? Of course this does not mean we compromise our own morals or principles, it just means that we have compassion for people. 

The world needs more compassion. And it can begin with us. We can do our part each and every day by having more compassion for ourselves and for each other. We can see the world with God’s eyes. With eyes that seek out beauty, joy, and goodness wherever it can be found. AMEN. 

The Fruits of Putting God First

Splendor of Creation in Maine

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

DFMS Noonday Prayer

Ezekiel 24:15-24; Psalm 79:1-8; Matt. 19:16-22

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

“Jesus said to him, ‘If you wish to be perfect, go, sell your possessions, and give the money* to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; then come, follow me.’” Well,  considering that you can see that I am still in my home office, and am present in chapel because I have my computer and the router downstairs is connecting me to the internet, you may have guessed that I did not follow through on Jesus’ command to the rich man before writing this sermon. In fact, I could not have written it without a most essential possession  -  my laptop! 

Now, if any of you have a Saint Francis moment after hearing this Gospel lesson, I am sure Amazon Marketplace or Ebay would be glad to help you sell all your possessions. Like Saint Francis, there is a good and noble history in the Christian tradition of choosing poverty as a way to serve God. I am not sure, however, that it is the path all of us are called to take. I think, actually, there is another layer of meaning in this reading. And it is one that can be particularly meaningful to us in these times when we may feel overwhelmed by all the anxiety in the world at present. 

It is worth asking why Jesus told this man to sell all his possessions. Was it really about the material goods or was there something else? I think what Jesus is emphasizing in his command to the rich man is that there is nothing that should come before your relationship with God. 

I don’t actually think Jesus is saying that possessions are all bad in and of themselves. He and the disciples needed clothes, shoes, food, and the occasional boat to travel around and conduct his ministry. It is not about the stuff. It is about how we view our possessions. Are we putting them above our relationship with God? 

At its root, the Gospel is asking us to check in on our priorities. Are we connected to God? Are we sufficiently grounded or are we finding ourselves distracted, frustrated or anxious? There is plenty to be anxious about in the world right now. The weight of the dual pandemics of COVID-19 and systemic racism weigh heavily on our hearts. There is much uncertainty about what our work and family lives will look like in the coming weeks. We could set ourselves spinning about all kinds of scary what ifs or simply be emotionally overwhelmed by the magnitude of suffering in the world right now. 

In some ways those are the easy roads to go down, we could just fall into them slowly bit by bit, task by task. We need to choose God. Choose Faith. Choose Hope. It does require some work on our part. But here is the really good thing. It is a small amount of effort for an immeasurable reward. We know this. It is why we come to chapel. It is why we cultivate the relationships in our lives that are life-giving. The ones with people whose wisdom and sense of humor always helps us find our center and keep a broad perspective. The people who help us see God and ourselves more clearly. It is why we spend time in the splendor of creation. It is why we take a few minutes to sit and breathe deeply, to savor a cup of coffee or tea or a delicious meal. It is why we read books that make us laugh, that make us think, that warm our hearts. It is why we spend time with friends and family, particularly those of another generation -those who see the world differently, connecting us to the past and the future. It is why we do all of these things and whatever else feeds our souls.

So, consider yourself reminded that you will be a better follower of Jesus, a better human being, if you put your relationship with God first. Take note of the myriad of opportunities we have to do that each day. Yes, we have tasks and important work to do. And, we must always make time for that which really matters. For in so doing, we will be enriched. Our hearts will be more open, and we will be less anxious. We will have and be able to share more grace and peace. No doubt the world could use more grace and peace. May we always have the courage to choose God, and may we share the fruits of that choice will all those we meet. Amen. 

Monica: God is never far

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD
DFMS Noonday Prayer
Monica, May 4, 2020

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word, who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
Today we remember Monica, the mother of St. Augustine. Her life and faith are worth remembering in their own right, not just because of who her son became. Interestingly, she actually has a lot of hope to offer us. There is hope in her story because it is a very human one. She struggled as a mother. She wanted her son to become a Christian early in life. If you know much about Augustine, he had quite an interesting and complicated life and did not come to faith until much later in life.

Side note here, when I spent a summer working with a chaplain in a juvenile detention center, I had a group read some excerpts of Augustine’s Confessions. He has a great story of stealing bags and bags of pears from an orchard with a group of friends in his teenage years. The pears aren’t even good. He just does it for the joy of stealing. And yet he went on to become a Saint in the Church. Made for some interesting conversation.

Back to Monica. Her parenting did not go the way she wanted. She wanted her son to change his life, but it did not happen in the time frame she desired. And yet it happened. She also had hoped to be buried in Africa, but she did in Italy and managed to make her peace with that. In fact, she told Augustine, “You will bury your mother here. All I ask of you is that, wherever you may be, you should remember me at the altar of the Lord. Do not fret because I am buried far from our home in Africa. Nothing is far from God . . . ‘

Monica’s faithfulness is an example to all of us. A willingness to trust in God, to trust that God is never far from us. A willingness to trust that hope and faith are stronger than fear.

Our readings for today can be somewhat of a challenge on this front. Hannah prayers for a child, and Samuel is born. In Luke’s Gospel today, a mother is miraculously given back her son whom she thought had died. These lessons taken on their own can be problematic. No doubt we all have things we have hoped for and wished for, sometimes so deeply it hurts. And yet they do not happen as we wish they would.

If we had only our readings for today that could leave us feeling discouraged and desolate. For our lives so often do not match up to what we wish for. So it is good that we also have the example of Monica’s life and the rest of Scripture to remind us that we are not alone in things not going the way we might hope or desire.

From Rachel weeping for her children to Joseph being sold by his brothers to the Israelites slavery in Egypt to Job’s suffering and countless psalms to the Prophets to Jesus’ own family and life experiences, we know that we are not alone in experiences not going according to our plans or our hopes.

I would guess that none of us planned or hoped to be quarantined for all these weeks. None of us wished for a pandemic. None of us wished to lose dear friends and colleagues in the midst of it. None of us wished to have our lives turned upside down or so much fear and anxiety swirling. And so it is important for us to remember that we are not alone in our struggles. It is important to remember Monica’s wisdom that nothing is far from God. Indeed, God is with us in the midst of all of this. God is very near. We need not fear the future. We do not journey alone. God is always with us.

No matter how uncertain things may seem, no matter how often things do not go according to plan, we can find comfort in knowing that we are not alone. And we can trust that God is always at work. God’s redeeming love is bringing forth hope and new life even in the midst of whatever challenges we face. That is the Easter story. That is the heart of our faith. Thanks be to God. Amen.

Prodigal Son

Embed from Getty Images

Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

Chapel of our Lord, Episcopal Church Center

Maryan of Quidun

Hosea 2:14–23;Psalm 130;Luke 15:11–24

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the Living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Today we get the famous parable about the prodigal son. The son who takes his father’s money and squanders it in a foreign land and returns home in disgrace. Although we would expect him to be chastised and punished by his father for how irresponsible he has been, he is not. No, instead he is welcomed with open arms and a feast has been prepared. And that, of course, is the point. This is the parable about the wideness of God’s mercy. It is a parable about how immense God’s love is. And I think there is another important message in this parable that is often overlooked. 

It is often overlooked, because the character is often overlooked. Who do we focus on in this parable? We focus on the father and the wayward son, particularly on days like this when we remember the life of someone like Maryan of Quidun who fell into sin and then repented. And of course, we all have had times when we have gone astray in our own lives, and so we can identify with the prodigal son. And I would bet most (if not all) of us can identify with the father figure. We know the joy of being reunited with a loved one. We know the joy that comes when reconciliation happens and a broken relationship is healed! But we don’t often focus on the other son, the one who is left behind and who is so angry that a feast is prepared for the brother who returns!

It is quite understandable that we have a dislike for that brother, because identifying with him would likely mean owning up to a part of ourselves that we don’t like. It would mean owning up to the part of ourselves that gets jealous of other people’s success. It would mean owning up to the part of ourselves that desperately wants to be loved and appreciated by others. It would mean owning up to the part of ourselves that operates from a theology of scarcity - a conviction that there is not enough love to go around, and so we must be in competition with our siblings for our parents’ love and with every other person for the love of God. 

I will admit to having my brotherly moments. My moments when I have been too self-centered and unable to rejoice in another’s success, moments when I have been sure there isn’t enough love to go around. 

I think if we take a good, hard look at ourselves and our motives, we will realize we have all been there. As much as we would prefer not to admit it, we have behaved in selfish ways. As it says in the Morning Prayer Rite I confession, we have “followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts.” We are guilty of operating from a theology of scarcity. 

Most of the time we focus on this parable as one of comfort, one that reminds us that we are loved by God even if we have gone terribly astray, even if we have squandered the gifts that we have been given. That is an important and valuable lesson. And I want to offer that there is another important and valuable lesson in this text. It is less about our own comfort and more about stretching us to be who God calls us to be. I believe the story of the prodigal son is an invitation for us to stretch ourselves and to be more graceful. It is a parable about grace, but it is not just about God’s grace - it is about how we can be grace-filled people too. 

It is an invitation to behave more like the father than the older brother. It is an invitation to operate from a theology of abundance. There is enough love, enough joy for everyone. We ARE NOT in competition for God’s love or each other’s love. There is plenty to go around. That is the thing about love, the more you give it away - the more you share it with others- the more there is to go around. 

So, the next time someone receives an accolade you thought you deserved or the next time you want to launch into an angry tirade about how undeserving someone is or the next time you feel your competitive spirit get the better of you, slow down. Take a deep breath and remember the story of the prodigal son. Try being gracious. Try seeing them through the father’s eyes, through God’s eyes. Try putting a smile on your face and reaching out in love. You might just be pleasantly surprised by the results!

AMEN. 

Reflecting on St. Augustine

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Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

Feast of St. Augustine, August 29, 2019 

Chapel of Our Lord, Episcopal Church Center

Psalm 87; Hebrews 12:22-29 ; John 14:6-15

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Today is the feast of St. Augustine. I have a complicated relationship with Augustine. Hopefully I am not the only one. I have deep respect for him and find much of his writing to be insightful and thought provoking. I also have some challenges with some of his doctrines. First the good stuff.

Even if you don’t know much about the details of the life of St. Augustine, you probably know much his thought. He is a foundational figure in Western Christianity. We owe him a debt for articulating well so many of the important beliefs and doctrines of our faith tradition. It is from Augustine that we get our understanding that a sacrament is an outward and visible sign of an inward and spiritual grace. He so simply and beautifully articulates the truth of our experience, of our belief that when we gather around this table to share bread and wine there is more going on than baked wheat and fermented grape juice. There is something real, powerful, and meaningful happening here. God is present in a miraculous and tangible way. Along with that Augustine also articulates for us the belief that it is God in the Holy Spirit here that make the bread and the wine into the real presence of Christ. It is not about me as the priest. I am merely the conduit for God’s grace. 

This was particularly important in Augustine’s time, because there was a controversy with the Donatists about whether it was the holiness of people that made the Church holy or whether the Church was holy because it belonged to God. Thankfully, Augustine’s view one out. Neither the holiness of the Church nor the validity of the sacraments depends on us. What a relief. It is not up to us alone. God shows up here in our worship no matter what kind of day we are having. If we are on top of our game and getting everything right, God is here. If we have failed five times before breakfast and really wishing we could just start over, God is here. It is not up to us or how well we are doing at living up to our goals as a follower of Jesus today. 

Augustine’s willingness to own the frailty of being human is one of the things I so appreciate about him. He is aware of how small we humans are in the grand scheme of things and how big God is. There is comfort in that. As Augustine writes at the beginning of his autobiography, Confessions: our hearts are restless until them come to rest in God. We cannot do it all on our own. We will be restless until we put our trust and faith in God. We will be restless until we rest in God. As it says in one of the prayers in the Compline service in the BCP, which asks that “we who are wearied by the changes and chances of this world may rest in your eternal changelessness.” [p. 133]

In his book, Confessions, Augustine tells a story of his teenage years in which he and a group of friends snuck into an orchard and stole a bunch of pears. They stole more than they could possibly eat, not because they were good pears, but simply for the joy of thieving. While most of us probably do not relate to the joy of actually stealing something, we can certainly relate to the way in which we can give into the temptation to do something we know we should not, just because it feels good. Just one more way Augustine owns up to the frailty and challenges of being human. 

My difficulties with Augustine come in the fact that at times he took the frailty of humanity too far. Augustine is known for a strong doctrine of original sin, the belief that we are born sinful. And it is a doctrine which the Church embraced for centuries until the Reformation. This doctrine taken to its extreme ends up promoting a negative view of our bodies, particularly female bodies, and of human intimacy. 

Since Augustine had such a willingness to own up to the reality of human frailty, I am hoping we can chalk that problematic theology about sex and our bodies to his humanity without tossing out all the good stuff in his theology. 

Ultimately, I hope Augustine’s emphasis on the enormity of God, of God’s goodness, God’s grace and the fact that God’s presence and God’s love are with us no matter how virtuous or successful a day we are having. I hope that is the message that you carry with you from our celebration of Augustine today. God’s grace is present in our lives, and we don’t have to do anything to earn it. Thanks be to God. AMEN. 

Saint Dominic, Joy, and Grace

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Rev. Molly F. James, PhD

Chapel of Our Lord, Episcopal Church Center 

Feast of St. Dominic, August 8, 2019

Psalm 96:1-7; Romans 10:13-17; John 7:16-18

May God’s Word be spoken. May God’s Word be heard. May that point us to the living Word who is Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

One of my dearest friends, Minlib, who is really more than a friend (he is like another brother), is a Dominican Friar. We first met as PhD students many years ago, and he fast became a member of my family. So when I saw that I would be preaching on the feast day of his order’s founder, I wrote him a note asking if he had any particular insights for me. 

He told me that Dominic was as a joyful friar and a preacher of grace. That made me smile and warmed my heart. It probably helps that all these centuries later joy and grace are still embodied in the Dominican order. My dear Minlib certainly does. And there seems to be something of the Holy Spirit in having Dominic’s feast this week. Joy and grace. We are certainly in need of those at the present moment. Now it could certainly be said that joy and grace are always a good idea. AND I think we need them especially right now. We need them. Our world needs them. Joy and grace seem to be utterly missing from our news headlines and from our collective, societal discourse.

We need a little more Dominic in our lives. We need his spirit in the public square. Now, it could be easy to protest this since we cannot all be Dominic. We are not likely to give up all we have, commit ourselves to poverty and celibacy and found an order of friars. So while we may not all become preachers and friars, we certainly can embody his characteristics of joy and share his message of grace.

As I shared yesterday, I struggle with the judgment passages in our Scriptures, and so I am always grateful for a reminder that God’s grace abounds. One way to live out the reality of grace is to be more gentle with ourselves. No doubt we could all benefit from sharing God’s grace inside our own hearts. But if we are to follow in Dominic’s footsteps and to “preach” grace with our lives, then we also need to share that grace with others. We need to view others and the world through the lens of grace. This doesn’t have to mean letting go of high standards or accountability. It just means that when we find ourselves jumping to judgment or making assumptions about someone else’s motivations, we pause and reflect. We ask ourselves how it is that we might find more grace in this particular moment.

I have no doubt that joy and grace are inextricably linked. When we have more grace for ourselves and for each other, then there will also be more joy in our hearts. I also firmly believe, in fact it is part of what keeps me going, keeps me hopeful, even when the news headlines make me feel like crumpling into a puddle of tears and giving up. I believe that as each of us strives to live our lives with a little more grace, to bring a little more joy into the world, I believe it matters. I believe our actions matter. I believe how we live our lives matters. I believe that together, little by little, we can make the world a more graceful and joyful place. AMEN.